


Shoot Me

by boywihluv, hyunjinn



Category: Kpop - Fandom, SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate universe - Mafia, Dumbass Minghao, Godfather - Freeform, Head of the mafia, Intimidation, Jisoo is kinda bipolar in the scary way, Jobs, Kidnapped Hansol, Korean Mafia, M/M, Mafia Recruitment, Minghao is a bit of a psychopath, Mingyu the tech guy, Murder, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Recruitment, Seoul Mafia, What else is new, Wonwoo drives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-06-15 04:11:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15404691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boywihluv/pseuds/boywihluv, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyunjinn/pseuds/hyunjinn
Summary: Everyone seems to have the idealized version of the mafia engrained in their minds. Expensive cars, money, a reputation, and very little real work involved. Point a gun at someone to get them to pay their debt and shoot them if they don't. Hansol was like that. He had grown up with that very exact thriller movie induced mindset. Before he took a detour down one of the sketchiest parts of Seoul, saw a murder, ran for his life and got kidnapped. And that was the easiest part of his night.orHansol's too sarcastic and Jisoo's just trying to make sure Minghao doesn't kill him.





	1. Should've taken a detour

**Author's Note:**

> ANOTHER new book but its okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dumbasses

_This is an important mark in Seoul history. Leader of Korea’s mafia, Lee Jaebong, has been assassinated earlier this morning. The man and his wife were shot dead whilst sleeping in their countryside home. The streets are buzzing as the torch is passed to Lee’s only child. The boy is making history by being the youngest godfather worldwide, taking the role at only fourteen. His ceremony is said to be held sometime in the next week at an undisclosed location. We will report back if any information reaches us._

 

**Five years later**

 

Hansol supposed that maybe walking around at four am in a bad part of town was a bad idea. But Seungkwan was drunk at a party and needed to get picked up so Hansol had no choice in the matter. He couldn’t be responsible if something bad happened to his boyfriend. The air was cold and sent chills down his back. He pulled his bomber tighter to his body.

 

Hansol grabbed his phone from his pocket. Numb fingers deftly searching for Seungkwan’s contact, tapping it and waiting for him to pick up the call.

Earlier Seungkwan had texted him. The message was full of typos and hard to decipher but Hansol understood. Seungkwan rarely got drunk and he needed someone to bring him home, simple as that.

He just needed the address; all he knew was that it was in the grittier part of town and sketchy things had a tendency to occur there.

 

_“Hansolie~”_

“Seungkwan? I got your text, where the hell are you?”

_“I’m not telling! It’s a secret! Shhh.”_

“Who’s with you, Kwannie?”

_“I can’t tell you! Soonyoung told me not to tell. His parents don’t know he’s having a party at the house!!”_

“So you’re at Soonyoung’s?”

_“Um..”_

 

Hansol laughed at his boyfriend’s drunken antics when he noticed a small group of people only a few metres away from him, standing by the fence surrounding a park. It didn’t seem too out of the ordinary, maybe it was normal in this part of town.

 

Then he saw the gun.

One of the three is facing the other. Eerily calm.

The man he’s facing off with however looked like he was gonna piss himself.

To be fair wouldn’t most people when someone had a gun pressed to the back of their skull? The guy holding the firearm had a slight grin on his face, evidently enjoying the exchange.

 

“Uh, I’m gonna have to call you back Kwannie.”

 

He had just ended the call when a loud crisp gunshot rang through the air, blood misting through the air, giving the guy who had just blown his brains out a hell of a facial.

He didn’t flinch, instead opting to point the gun to where Hansol was standing.

Of course they heard him, of fucking course.

 

“Don’t even think of running.” This was the unarmed one, the compsed one.

 

The order was clear, it left nothing to be desired. But Hansol decided in that split second that he’d rather take his chances then have his brain become mush, so he ran. Well running is something people do when they have too much time on their hands and want to work on their cardio, Hansol sprinted.

 

The one who had spoken, who went by Jisoo and was one of the godfather’s closest men, sighed in exasperation.

“Why do they always run? Is it my tone? Am I being too serious?”

 

Minghao, his partner of sorts, another important figure in the mafia community lowered his beretta. “It’s a bit too. . . Jisoo like.”

“Too Ji- But I’m? What is that even supposed to mean?”

“Well it’s a bit, intense Shua, maybe next time I’ll try the whole ‘don’t you dare’ thing. I can be intimidating!” Minghao exclaimed, throwing up his arms, gun flying from his hand and landing on the ground. Minghao flinched and jumped away from the weapon. Jisoo sighed, not knowing how to deal with his friend.

 

“Can we just focus on the guy? It’s not like we can let him go free, and he’s already like three blocks away.”

“So can we run him over? Like last week? That was great, I never knew people had so many organs.” Minghao said, a signature cheeky smile making its way to his face.

“I’ll call Wonwoo.” Jisoo looked down, ignoring his friend’s remarks, instead sending a quick message to their driver..  
“So we’re gonna run him over?” Minghao beamed.

“No, we’re going to collect him, Hao. _He_ said you can’t get more than one kill a day, especially after what happened in February..” Jisoo explained, still looking down as he typed.

Minghao pouted, it had already been a month and he didn’t feel like it was necessary to keep bringing that incident up. Jisoo continued to ignore him.

 

Minghao rolled his eyes, following Jisoo as he made his way to the side of the road to wait for their car. It hadn’t been long before a sleek black Mercedes Benz rolled up in front of them. Minghao opened the back door and gestured Jisoo in with a mock bow. Jisoo shook his head but got in nonetheless, Minghao following suit and slamming the door shut much harder than needed. Wonwoo began to drive down the empty road. From where they were they could faintly make out someone running, illuminated by the low glow of the street lights.

 

Wonwoo continued on and slowed once beside the male. Hansol stopped and knocked on the window frantically. Once it began to roll down he began shouting, begging to be let inside the car.

“Yeah sure, just get in the passenger” Hansol nodded and yanked the door open, throwing himself onto the designer leather seats.

“Thank you, thank you so much, I think you may have just saved my life.”

“Well,” The doors clicked as Wonwoo locked them.

“Hey pal.” Hansol heard along with the trigger being reset on what was definitely a gun, he looked back to see the same tall guy with the gun from down the street.

“It’s nice to meet you! I’m The8, this here is my Joshua, and this,” He pressed the cold steel against Hansol’s temple, changing his expression. “is my baby. It’s name is . . . The9! Shua The 9, it’s perfect!” He exclaimed, flinging his hand up in an odd sense of accomplishment, pulling the trigger on accident. The bullet hit the roof of the car, lodging into the metal.

 

Hansol threw himself forward instinctively, the gun shooting so close enough to make his ears ring.

Wonwoo glared at Minghao through the rearview mirror “Minghao I swear to god, this car is worth more than you and you of all people should understand that it’s my ass getting handed to me if I don’t get that fixed.” He scolded.

“More importantly, Hao, you gotta stop naming your shit after numbers. For fuck’s sake you chose your code name to be The8! You named your fridge The7 and now your gun? Speaking of that stupid fucking fridge why’d you even get it? I’ve known you for four years and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat something other than restaurant food. Do you even use the damn thing.” Jisoo rambled.

“ . . . I put my books in there sometimes when I run out of room on my bookshelf.”

“Are, are you fucking with me- y’know what, don’t answer that, I don’t wanna know. Just know that I hate you.”

“But you don’t Shua~”

“Shut up Hao.”

“Also, I think I got most of it off but do I have anymore blood on my face?”

“It’s all off and you look great, as always.”

“You’re the best Shua.”

“You should know by now that that’s you babe.”

 

At this point Hansol decided it best to interject. “What do you guys want from me?”

Minghao seemed to just then remember that Hansol was in the car with them.

“Oh yeah, uh, night.” He stated, slightly smiling as he smashed the butt of his gun over Hansol’s head; the male slumping over, unconscious.

The three knew that they had a very limited window before he woke up, a few minutes at most, and he would needed to get his head checked. So Wonwoo floored it, speeding through the streets to the base.

 

You can’t recruit someone with a fractured skull after all.

 

-

 

When Hansol woke up he couldn’t move. His neck was stiff, and his head felt like someone had blended his brain. He couldn’t form a coherent thought if he tried; everything seeming foggy. Maybe he had gotten drunk instead of walking Seungkwan home last night, maybe fell off a building while he was at it. Evenso, this was the worst hangover ever. While his thought process wasn’t great he at least knew he was he was in pain. Not that stupid ‘I cut my finger cutting vegetables’ pain, but the kind of pain you need meds for.

It took a minute but he started remembering everything that had happened with the two from last night. He couldn’t put his finger on what they said their names were but he did know that the one that did this had a mullet; a rather unimportant fact but at least he looked good in it, instead of looking like some redneck from South Carolina that had two sons and three red pickup trucks he bought with his wife’s parents’ money. Not what he should be focusing on but that was beside the point.

 

Hansol tried to lift his head but the rock he guessed had once been his neck prevented him from doing so, if anything it made his already incredibly painful headache worse.

He held his breath when he heard a door open and slam shut. He didn’t know whether to be happy or not with the knowledge that he wasn’t in that car anymore. Probably the latter.

 

“He should have woken up by now, it’s already been fifteen minutes.” Hansol recognized the voice to belong to Joshua, was it? He swore he heard another name being said by the other.

“You think I broke him?” and that would be the number freak. The9? No, The8.

“You better fucking hope that you didn’t.”

“Yeah, whatever. Did you call Junhui? Tell him to get ready?”

“Who do you think I am, of course I called Jun. But don’t get your hopes up. He could still say no.”

“I kind of hope he does, we can’t allow people to let out private info because we were stupid enough to let ‘em go, and _he_ always lets me deal with them.”

“Well considering we have our guys monitoring his family’s home he’s not in the position to refuse. If you didn’t give him brain damage, that is.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

  
Hansol waited for more to be said. Instead he heard the door open and close once more. Confident that he was safe he opened his eyes, only to come face to face with that Joshua guy. He froze, the pain in his head and neck momentarily disappearing only to be replaced with fear.

 

“So, you’re awake.” He didn’t sound menacing. A little awkward but not like he was going to have Hansol dig his own grave. But that didn’t mean Hansol thought he wasn’t dangerous. In his life he had learnt that the composed ones were usually the biggest threats of all.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Okay. . . I’m just gonna go and uh, get Ming- The8. He just had to talk with someone and then I guess we get this started?”

“Wait what? Get what started?”

Jisoo didn’t answer, instead leaving the room.


	2. Babies can't kill murderers. Right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> haosoo being dumb and scary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for tuning into another chapter of minghao and jisoos personal circus

Hansol stayed still for a moment before attempting once more at getting up. Some of the pain had subsided but was by no means gone. It just made it a tad easier to move. Hansol hoisted his upper body up into a sitting position.

It took a minute for him to catch his breath, the small action taking a lot of his energy.

He lifted his head, observing the room he was in. The dark grey wall gave the impression the room was smaller than it was. There were no windows, a single light that seemed to barely work. A tv was stationed directly opposite him above a rickety looking wooden chair from where he was on the bed. A closet padlocked shut beside him. The room was simple but odd to keep what he assumed he was, a prisoner.

He stayed in that sitting position for another minute before getting off the bed to the best of his ability. He put his feet on the cold floors and hoisted himself to a standing position using the bed’s headboard.

He wobbled over to the chair and picked it up, thankful that it wasn’t too heavy. He dragged it with him as he went beside the door.

It wasn’t long before he heard footsteps echoing through what he could only assume was a hallway. The lock on the door clicked and Hansol raised the chair above his head. It opened and Joshua and The8 made their way inside the room. Upon seeing the bed void of its occupant they rushed forwards. Hansol stepped forwards and slammed the chair over Joshua’s head, the back of it breaking on his skull. Joshua stumbled forwards before whipping around, blood trickling over his face, and looked at Hansol.

Hansol was like a mouse challenging a lion.

 

Jisoo stood up straight, his calm composure cracking. He rushed Hansol, hand wrapping around his neck and pushing him against the wall, pushing him up the wall so the male’s toes just barely touched the floor with an unsuspected strength.

“I’ll make this nice and easy for you. You don’t have any power here. You don’t know where you are, you don’t know how to get out, and you sure as hell don’t know how to fight against two of the members of the Seoul mafia.”

Hansol couldn’t breathe but he understood perfectly. But being choked was not helping his migraine. He nodded to the best of his ability, crumbling to the ground and gasping for air as Jisoo dropped him.

“Come on babe.” Minghao said as he grabbed Jisoo’s arm and the back of Hansol’s shirt, dragging them somewhere.

The three reached an ominous metal door to which Minghao released Jisoo to open. Jisoo took the moment to wipe off the blood from his face. The8 tugged the boy into the room and lifted the struggling Hansol onto a chair, restraining his arms with leather restraints.

Minghao walked to the other side of the small room, behind another chair lacking restraints and pulled out his phone.

Jisoo walked over to the chair and sat down, crossing his legs that made him look somewhat pretentious and all the more dangerous.

“So, Vernon.”

The two words made Hansol rigid. He hadn’t gone by that name since living in America. So for them to already know information on him from two years ago was jarring to say the least.

 

“We have a. . . proposal.” 

“I’m happily single, thank you.”

Minghao chuckled from behind Jisoo.

“Don’t laugh at that, Hao.”

“He’s cute, what can I say?” Minghao whined.

Jisoo sighed. “If he keeps on being cute you may have to cut off a few fingers.” 

 

“What’s your proposal? ‘Cause I rather enjoy having ten fingers,” Hansol interjected.

“Alright Verny, we have a job for you.” Jisoo’s sing-songy voice made Hansol want to curl in a ball, but he couldn’t just concede.

“Like what? Delivering pizzas?” Hansol joked, leaving the room silent for a moment.

“So is this how it’s ‘gonna be? I highly doubt that Seokmin, Jihoon, Soonyoung, and Seungcheol will appreciate your humour. The8 can have a hell of an impact on people. Really change their point of view.” Jisoo leaned over the desk, a sly smile creeping up on his face.

“Like making them view the bottom of the Han river.” Minghao added cheerily.

“What’s the job?” Hansol asked, heart racing, trying to ignore what The8 had just told him.

“It’s simple, kill one unimportant person as an entry task.”

“Entry task?”

“Oh did I not mention it? Now that you’re here we either kill you and everyone you have remotely associated with.  _ Or _ you join the mafia. The logical choice should be obvious, hm?”

Hansol barely thought about it. The lives of all his friends and family, maybe even co-workers, or some stranger? He wasn’t an idiot.

“I’ll do it.” Hansol said, heart in his throat.

The8 raised his phone for a moment with a click before lowering it again, typing hurriedly.

“Photo by The8.” He muttered under his breath.

“What did he just say?” 

“Hao, not the time,” Jisoo turned back.

“It’s never the time with you . .” 

“We are in the middle of an important thing! You can post that later,”

“What?” Hansol questioned.

Jisoo sighed for what seemed to be the nth time that day.

“The8 has an instagram account that we’ve  _ tried  _ taking down but he just makes new ones.”

“I privated it, what more do you want from me?”

“For you to delete the damn thing!”

“Unrealistic.”

“Y’know what, just shut up for two seconds, we’ll discuss this later?”

“‘Kay babe.” Minghao continued to type on the device, his presence somehow still making Hansol uncomfortable.

“So I just have to kill someone?”

“Yes, or the five of your friends, your family, and even your colleagues will mysteriously disappear.”  _ Five? _

“Training starts tomorrow, don’t try anything funny, okay cutie?” Minghao said as he exited the room.

Jisoo released Hansol from the restraints and led him back to the room he had woken up in, subtly glaring at the chair as if it had smashed itself over his head.

 

Hansol couldn’t sleep that night. He’d close his eyes and would picture his sister Sofia being shot by the psycho with the mullet while the other sat back and laughed. That was all the motivation he needed to be fine with doing this.

Especially when the tv had started streaming a live feed of his parents and sister’s home back in America.

 

Hansol was woken by something poking him in the ribs, he hadn’t realized that he had fallen asleep. He opened his eyes and almost screamed when he saw the one plaguing his nightmares standing over him. The8 was poking his side with the head of an automatic rifle.

 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Hansol exclaimed, bolting upwards and pushing away the barrel.

 

“Waking you up…” The8 answered slowly. Hansol blinked.

“That’s not a very conventional way of waking people up,”

Minghao ignored this, pulling Hansol onto the floor by his arm.   
“Clothes are in the closet,” The8 began to walk away.

“It’s kind of, locked.”

“Oh, right,” The8 paused for a moment before pulling his gun back out and shooting at the lock on the closet, the automatic weapon sending bullets everywhere, the wall the lock, and the door.

“It’s not anymore,” he smiled.

 

Once Hansol was finished putting on clothes, the only clothing in the closet being a few black sweatshirts and a pair of ripped jeans courtesy of The8, he assumed, Hansol left the room. The8 was waiting just outside. The two walked in relative silence before reaching a door.

“This is the washroom, just head inside and wash up, you smell like crap. When you’re done Shua and I are in this room right here.” He motioned to an open doorway a few feet away. Hansol walked into the washroom relieved to see a shower.

 

The hot water ran over Hansol’s skin making him feel almost euphoric. He allowed himself a few seconds to relax. Blocking out the knowledge that he would never see his family again, his friends, his boyfriend, his job, hell even that bitch that worked on the same floor as him that never refilled the coffee pot.

That he was going to end someone’s life.

Hansol was surprised though. His situation could be much worse. So far he had been given clean clothes, a room he could leave whenever he wanted, somewhere to shower. Things could be a lot worse.

He shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. Grabbing a towel and drying himself off. Hansol looked at the mirror, taking notice of how tired he looked even if it had barely been a day. His eyes snapped up to where his hair was becoming darker. The wound caused by The8 opening from the water pressure. Hansol tugged on his clothes and began rummaging through the cabinet that the mirror was attached to. He found a roll of gauze and brought it out, wrapping his head with the mesh bandage. He threw the towel into what he assumed was the laundry basket and stepped out of the room. He walked over to the room and paused contemplating joining the chaos that was happening there.

 

“Shua, I just ‘wanna see what happens.” Minghao whined.

“You can’t make fucking apple juice with iphones, simple as that.”

“Well yeah, i’m not stupid.  It’s just ‘gonna be funny.”

“Where the hell did you even get these.” Jisoo said, almost as if he was trying to speak with a small child.

Minghao began placing the phones onto the table from a little bag he had, listing them off.

“Well this one’s yours, this is Jun’s, this is Jeonghan’s, this is  _ his _ , oh and I grabbed this one off of the new guy, Verny Verny, as well.”

“But god forbid you use your own phone.”

“I’ve got important stuff on there, I have like thirty videos of Junhui and I’m sure as hell not deleting them.” Minghao said this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’ve got important shit on mine too! But more importantly _ he’s  _ gonna fucking slaughter you.”

“He’s a baby though, he would do no such thing.”

“Remember the intern that spilled his coffee?”

“We have interns?”

“Not anymore.”

“Uh, hi, really sorry to interrupt but, you took my phone?” Hansol questioned.

Minghao paused in the middle of dropping the phones in the blender.

“Whoops? It doesn’t matter, you can’t have a phone unless you’ve met  _ him  _ anyways.”

“You guys keep mentioning a ‘he’ and ‘him’, who is that.”

Minghao strutted over to Hansol, their faces level and Minghao adorning what could definitely be a sadistic twinkle in his eye. 

“Now now now Hansol, you just got here, there’s no need to be asking such big questions just yet. Understood?”

Minghao’s voice was low and cold, a big change from his usual bored but playful one. Jisoo just watched the ordeal from the background, collecting the devices.

“You have no place here got it? Right now you are chicken shit and I could fucking kill you and no one would ever know. No one would care. So you’re gonna watch it, keep your mouth shut, questions to yourself and stop poking your nose in shit that doesn’t concern you, ‘kay?”

Minghao pushed Hansol’s shoulders, making him take a few steps back.

“Minghao! He gets it, back off a bit, okay.” Jisoo said, concerned that things could get physical, a fight that would end with Hansol dead on the floor.

“Of course Shua! I’m just playing.”

“Your idea of playing is hitting pedestrians on your motorcycle, just be nice to the guy for two seconds. For my sake.”

“Ugh, fine. We have to get him to Jun anyways. Let’s hope he gets himself killed.”

 

Jun turned out to be a very tall, lanky, tanned guy. Probably around the same age as Jisoo. When they entered a large gym, still inside the building, he was borderline abusing a punching bag, the sandbag going flying with each hit. Once he had noticed the three arrivals he had steadied the bag and walked over, throwing his gloves into a large blue bin. 

“This him?” Jun’s voice was steady despite him obviously just finishing a workout that would have killed most people. Hansol wished he had just kept running instead of getting into that fucking car.

“Yeah it’s him, don’t work him too hard, we still have to put him through gun maintenance and schematics.” Jisoo answered. 

“I’ll do it anyways, the guy has like no real muscle. Let me guess, your idea of working out is push ups and treadmills?”

“Uh, kinda.”

Junhui sighed, seemingly disappointed. He turned to Minghao and the two began a conversation in what he was pretty sure was mandarin.

“Junhui here says that you’ll be dead in two weeks, Minghao is betting that it’ll be three days.”

Hansol whipped around to Jisoo? Joshua? Shua? What the fuck was he supposed to call him.

“You speak mandarin?”

“I speak a lot of things. But they’re betting on when you’ll shoot yourself from the stress.” 

Hansol snorted.   
“Oh I’m not joking, I believe that we’ve had five newbies kill themselves because of what everyone here calls the china line death training.”

Hansol felt shivers run down his spine, he jumped when someone grabbed his forearm.

“C’mon pretty boy, time to get to work.”


	3. The monster is a kitten

Two hours later Hansol understood the meaning behind the name of the dreadful workout. He learned that most of his little class would be taught by Junhui, who had him going from doing fifty squats (a number that was only for pussys, as said by Junhui and would progressively multiply), to running thirty laps of the massive gym whilst dragging a tire behind him, climbing a rope up to the ceiling the times with weights on his arms and legs, to what Jun called break time, burpees for ten minutes, and he had to carry a 150 pound dumbbell between each workout. They hadn’t even gotten to the martial arts training yet, Junhui would be teaching him Kung Fu whilst Minghao would be teaching him Wushu and nunchucks, this part of the day Hansol was looking forward to the least specifically because of his mullet bearing pal whomst he had grown to hate with a fiery passion despite knowing him for an extremely short amount of time, Junhui had said that it was 10:30 so Hansol had been with the Mafia for around six and a half hours.

At the moment Hansol was on his hands and knees, head half way in a large pail vomiting anything and everything he had in his stomach, dry heaving when nothing was left.

“Okay snowflake, let’s get back to work.”

Hansol needed a break, just a few minutes. He looked around the gym and saw Jisoo, Joshua, Shua, person snuggled against Minghao, scrolling his phone as Minghao cleaned an extremely terrifying looking knife.

“Before we start I gotta know, what’s that guy’s name.” Hansol asked, pointing to Jisoo, his breathing still erratic.   
“‘Cause so far I’ve heard Jisoo, Joshua and Shua.”

Junhui whipped around, staring Hansol dead in the eyes.

“Never call Jisoo that, you’re asking for death if you do.”

“What? Shua?”

Junhui looked at something behind Hansol and his eyes widened, taking a step back.

 

“What the fuck did you just call me?”

The voice wasn’t as intimidating as Minghao’s but it still made Hansol want to piss himself. He slowly turned around to see a very angry Jisoo.

“Shua. . . Minghao called you that and I’ve heard like three different names for you. Minghao’s name was obviously not The8 so when you called him Minghao and Hao I just kinda figured that out but for you I keep hearing different stuff so yeah, sorry.” Hansol rambled.

Jisoo sighed, releasing some of his anger at the name had given him.

He ran his hand through his hair.

“Promise to never call me that again and I’ll tell you the name you can call me and how that… thing, came to be.”

“Okay, deal.”

“Awesome, so just call me Jisoo, it’s easier for everyone. Now that nickname is because of that dipshit.”

Jisoo motioned his head towards Minghao who had fallen asleep with his knife and rag in hand.

“I found him on the streets of Haicheng China; I was seventeen and he was fifteen so this was about five years ago, right in the middle of the power shift. He had been on the streets for around six years. I saw him beat the shit out of some dirtbag that tried to rape a chick, thought he was a ninja at first . . . He just picked up a stick then he flying through the air and next thing you know the guy’s half dead. I followed him to this street corner and asked him if he needed a job, he said yeah so I told him to hold my gun; just to see how he held it, if he would be scared shitless. He grabbed it and copied what he had seen in movies I guess. Checked the chamber, turned off the safety, cocked it and shot a guy. Everyone was going crazy. . . yet he was smiling. I found out a while later that his father had forced him to kill his mom and siblings before torturing the shit out of him. The guy left him tied in the basement for days, only reason he lived was ‘cause the bank came to evict the tenants and found the massacre that was in the living room. I figure that it kinda ruined any empathy he may have had for anyone. So I took him back here, took him to meet the boss and such. We were just wandering and he asked my name. My code name is Joshua so I told him that. He misheard and said Shua. I said no, not Shua and at the time I just guessed he didn’t really know Korean and that maybe he he thought I said no shoes? So he said ‘no shoes? Okay’ and took one of his off. I said ‘no shoes are fine, but my name is Joshua, not Shua.’ He started taking the other one off anyways, ‘no shoes yeah?’ he said to me and I said what I had said before. He grabbed one of his torn up sneakers and chucked it. Actually ended up hitting Junhui here right in the face, right Jun?”

Jun rubbed the spot subconsciously “He had a hell of an arm too.”

“Anyways, this fucker walks up to me and in perfect Korean says ‘I’m not stupid, but your name is Shua now, deal with it’ before strutting off. He acts dumb but he’s probably one of the most intelligent people here, besides me and Mingyu, our tech guy.”

Hansol was in shock, he expected something lighthearted, a pet name from an old lover or something. Not that Minghao was homeless and extremely abused. He would have to start seeing him in a different light. He felt like he had to lighten the atmosphere, at least for him.

 

“So are you guys a thing or something?” Hansol asked innocently.

Jisoo snorted before laughing, hands on his knees, bent at the hips.

Junhui however was fairly serious.

“Oh better fucking hope not, Minghao and I are together. Plus Jisoo here has a boyfriend as well.”   
“Oh, I just assumed since they’re so touchy and call each other pet names and such.”

“If I wasn’t dating that little shit I would think so too. After he hit me with the shoe he walked off, then came back cause he was barefoot, grabbed it from my hands and said ‘thanks gorgeous’. He’s flirty with everyone. You get used to it.” Junhui looked like he had had this conversation far too many times.

“You’re fine with that?”

“Well I knew what I was getting into when I asked him out. Now, we have some weights to throw! And after that we’ll start your kung fu training.”

Hansol groaned but walked after him anyways, knowing that there was no way of getting out of this.

 

Junhui had Hansol do exercises for another hour before stopping him, saying that it was time for his hour and a half of martial arts, the hour and a half broken up in thirds to train him on three different fighting styles. Kung fu, wushu, and nunchucks.

Kung fu with Junhui was simple. His half hour he spent on simple flowing movements, finding your inner center and letting you mind go blank, becoming completely in touch with your body. Hansol just let his body mimic Junhui’s slow, graceful actions and blocked everything out. He probably didn’t do too well because of all the thoughts swarming his mind but Jun said it was normal and that it took time. 

Minghao however was a monster. Not in the sense that he was a bad teacher, Hansol had no way to judge that just yet. But when he showed a demonstration Hansol vowed to never pick a fight with him. Minghao picked up a long wicker pole and stepped into a stance. The pole was upright in the air at his side, he slowly raised his arm upwards and then in front of him. Hansol jumped when he suddenly curled his arm to his side and snapped his feet together at an impossible speed. He placed both hands on the pole and slid his left foot backwards. He paused for only a second before whirling around with a superhuman sense of grace and agility. The pole whipped around his head but he held a steady almost content facial expression. He pointed the pole at Hansol’s face but not in the sense to hurt him. Minghao placed his hand on the end closest to him and began making it whirl it short precise circles, making Hansol’s head spin. He jumped to a side profile and slammed the tip of the pole to the ground, then he began whipping the pole to either side of him as he hopped from foot to foot. He did this whilst turning his body, continuing as he jumped into the air. Minghao continued to flip through the air, the pole whipping around his head. Hansol couldn’t look away from the deadly, graceful performance. Minghao’s face remained blank and impassive as he continued. Hansol was entranced, addicted.   
Hansol’s parents were artists so he’d always appreciated art, he dabbled in it occasionally but never had that passion.

This, however, was true art. This was a master doing what he loved and Hansol was bewitched by the captivating performance.

Then he got hit in the stomach.

Hard.

Hansol keeled over, feeling like he just got hit with a crane. He fell into a coughing fit, his eyes aching, throat burning from the coughs racking his body.

Once he collected himself and the pain died down slightly he looked up to see Minghao standing in front of him, a grin poorly hidden on his face.

“What the fuck was that for?!” Hansol questioned angrily.

“That Verny, is the first step of your wushu training.” Minghao said smugly.

“How the fuck is that training?”

“It’s to build up strength.” Minghao threw the pole at Hansol’s chest, who barely caught it.

“Hit me in the stomach as hard as you can.”

Hansol paused, thinking that he misheard.

“What?”

“I said, hit me. As hard as your little arms can muster.”

This irritated Hansol seeing as Minghao was much skinnier than him.

“Fine.” Hansol stated.

Hansol walked towards Minghao, ready to release all of his anger towards the man. He lifted the pole as if he was holding a baseball bat and swung. He swung with all of his frustration, his anger, his mental and physical pain, everything.

And Minghao didn’t even flinch. Hansol’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. Hansol was by no means weak, at least compared to his friends. He straightened his back and took a step back, dropping the pole. Minghao lifted his shirt to show that the only mark Hansol left was a long pink ark that was already fading away.

“That’s it?” He asked mockingly.

“What kind of monster are you?” Hansol asked, his fear towards the man growing. 

Minghao chuckled and fixed his shirt, he took a step towards Hansol and looked him level in the eye.

“I’m the kind of monster who’s wushu master hit me as hard as they could, four hours, everyday, for years. You will go through similar training, eventually you will be skilled, insanely so. I will train you on your agility, reflexes, flexibility and pain tolerance. Jun will handle strength. If you survive our training you will become the monster you accuse me of being.” Minghao stepped next to his ear.

“But worse.”

Hansol shivered as Minghao turned around and retrieved his pole.

“We will alternate days between actual wushu and pain tolerance. Today we focus on pain, prepare yourself.”

Hansol gulped and it took most of his willpower to step up, clamp his hands at his sides, tense his abs, and clench his teeth. And then he waited.

Half an hour later Hansol felt like he was dying. His abdomen was already filled with colourful bruises, a mix of greens, blues, purples, yellows and blacks. He was crying, he couldn’t help it. Before this he was a normal guy; he wasn’t used to the hell he was being put through. He had dry heaved for a while, but he had nothing left to puke out. Hansol understood why people ate bullets after this shit. It wasn’t exercise, it was torture.

“Okay come on Hansol.” A soft voice said and he felt arms wrap around him, lifting him up. Hansol looked up and was surprised to see Minghao to be the one picking him up.   
“That’s enough for today, let’s get you cleaned up, something to eat and a bed. Nunchucks can wait until tomorrow.”

“Why are you being so nice now.” Hansol could barely muster more than a whisper.

Minghao chuckled as he supported Hansol as he led him to the kitchen. Jun and Jisoo had left, not wanting to see Hansol experience that shit.

“‘Cause when I got into wushu I was 10 years old, I was skinny, and scared and weak. After my first session I couldn’t move for a week. My master was a cold man and didn’t help me. I stayed in the alley behind his studio after. I wished that the man could show some sympathy and allow me some food, a bed or a shower. I got none. So I figure that to train someone I have to be a little nicer. No use having a student that hates me.”

“T-Thank you.” Hansol murmured. This side of Minghao was unexpected but very welcome. Hansol seemed to be finding it harder and harder to hate the man.


	4. Sub-machine guns and naps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meant to update yesterday but i was camping so i hope you can forgive me!!!

The two reached the kitchen and as if on cue Hansol’s stomach growled, he hadn’t eaten since dinner the day before, and that felt like it was forever ago.

Minghao had him sit at the table and prepared something that he said was  bō cài miàn, a traditional chinese dish. Hansol devoured it, savouring each delicious bite. He ate three bowls before having to run to the garbage and puke. Eating so much so fast making him sick again. He had another bowl but ate it slowly this time, making sure that it would stay down.

Minghao watched silently from across the table, eating his own bowl. 

“Just so you know, I’m not a complete sociopath.”

Hansol paused mid bite and looked up. The sweet, honey voice replacing the tone he had grown used to once again.

“What do you mean.”

“I see the way you look at me. Plus when I went to wake you up you were yelling about how you didn’t want me to kill Sofia, your sister while you were sleeping. I enjoy killing, I’m not going to lie. But I would never hurt women or children. The people I’m asked to kill have all done worse shit than me. Rape, human trafficking. . . The guy you saw me kill ran a child pornography site, kidnapped kids from their schools. I joke about killing random people and I won’t lie and say that I don’t enjoy that too but I’m not completely crazy. So you don’t have to be scared of me. I’ll train you, I’ll threaten you if you fuck up and I will not hesitate to kill you if you turn on us. But I will not hurt you without reason.”

Hansol was in complete shock. He had expected many things during his time with Minghao but this confession wasn’t it. Minghao was obviously much more sensitive than he let on and Hansol felt bad for his previous mis judgments.

“I won’t lie. I have a hard time trusting people or showing them empathy and Jisoo told you why that was but I’m human too. I have nightmares, I have bad days. Do you know why I chose my name to be The8?”

Hansol slowly shook his head no, not able to muster the words.

“I haven’t even told Shua this, but maybe it’s because we’re so close. When you flip the number 8 on it’s side it makes the symbol for infinity. It takes an infinite amount of strength to stop myself from blowing my brains out and just letting everything go. Eight is such an important number to me because it encourages me to keep going and it gives me the strength to keep going, if that makes sense.” Minghao wouldn’t meet Hansol’s eyes.

“It does. I understand.”

Minghao looked up and smiled. 

“Let me show you something.”   
Minghao turned his back to Hansol and pulled his tank top up. Hansol was met with a beautiful tattoo of the infinity sign. 

“I’m sorry.”

Minghao dropped his shirt and turned around, confused.

“I’m sorry for everything. I don’t completely forgive you but I get that right, you did pistol whip me and beat the shit out of me. You also kidnapped me, even if I understand why you did it. You aren’t a monster.”

Minghao smiled. “Thanks Verny.”

The two shared a comfortable silence as they finished their lunch and washed their dishes. Minghao left to go to the gym to fit in a quick workout and left Hansol to shower. Hansol entered the washroom and stripped, he unwrapped his head and washed away all the sweat and grime, avoiding looking at his now bruise covered body. 

 

Hansol fell asleep as soon as his head hit his pillow. 

 

When Hansol woke up every part of him hurt, every muscle felt like lava and his abdomen felt like minced meat and his head  _ still  _ hurt from being pistol whipped. He looked over to the person who woke him up, Minghao stood over him, poking him once again with an AK-47. This seemed to be his new alarm clock. He groaned and sat up. He winced at the shooting pain that shot through him at the small movement.

“Time for the technical training.” Minghao said, his usual tone back.

“What time is it?”

“Seven pm, you were out for four hours.”

“Okay, um, I need some new clothes.” Earlier he had traded the skinny jeans for training shorts and wore the training shirt. All three were now dirty and in a laundry basket in the washroom. He had fallen asleep in just his boxers, not having anything other than the two remaining training shirts in his closet.

Minghao walked over to the closet and opened it, looking at the shirts and making a ‘tsk’ sound.

“Okay, follow me and I’ll get you some clothes.” Minghao said, irritated and opened the door, looking back at Hansol and waiting for him to follow.

Hansol apprehensively got out of the bed, ignoring his body’s protests. He wrapped his arms around his chest and walked over to Minghao in his boxers.

Minghao ignored his lack of clothes and shoes and walked out, Hansol following like an obedient dog.

 

They stopped in front of a plain door engraved with ‘The8 fashion’. Hansol knew that the title was a result of Minghao’s semi-eccentric personality. Once the two entered the room Hansol was met with rows of clothes, the room was basically a giant closet. Minghao walked off while Hansol stayed where he was. Minghao walked around the room grabbing various things before returning to hansol with a handful of clothes. He threw them at Hansol. 

“Get changed, I’ll be just outside.” Minghao said, exiting the room. 

Hansol began changing into the clothes, white washed ripped jeans, a white shirt with a very prominent gucci label on the front and a thin navy blue collared coat that almost reached his knees. He left it open and tucked in the shirt loosely. Finally putting on a pair of black fashionable combat boots.

He stepped outside and saw Minghao leaning against the wall. 

“C’mon, Jisoo’s waiting.”

They walked down the slightly dim hallway to a destination that Hansol didn’t know.

The two were silent, not talking to each other at all. The air was tense, both males ignoring their previous conversation.

Minghao stopped them outside a wooden door. He turned the knob and lightly pushed Hansol into the room. The room’s lighting was a stark contrast to the hall as the light felt almost blinding. Jisoo sat alone at a table. An array of weapons ranging from subautomatics, to pistols, to knives, to mysterious bottles containing liquid that Hansol could assume was poison.

“How’d the training go Hansol?” Jisoo asked obviously knowing how much pain Hansol was in, probably having experienced the training before himself.

Hansol only glared and plopped down in the chair directly opposite of the man.

“Okay so you’re probably ‘gonna love my part of your day compared to Jun and Hao’s. This will be weapon training. 

“I have to learn how to use all of these?” Hansol asked.

“Uh yeah, Minghao knows how to use fifty six different times of firearms and seventy eight different times of blades. That’s the second highest record here.”   
Hansol stared at Jisoo in shock, nervous to ask his next question.

“So who has the highest record here?”

“Well Verny that would be me. Eighty seven firearms and a hundred and four blades.” Jisoo said smugly, obviously proud of his accomplishments.

“Then why in the flying fuck does Minghao do all the killing?” Every minute in this hell just seemed to make Hansol more and more confused.

“‘Cause I don’t like it. Plus, blood is impossible to clean off. It gets absolutely everywhere, Minghao is a luck ass and can get most of it off with a shower whereas I’m stuck finding it everywhere on me for the next few days.”

Hansol nodded, not really understanding because he’d never murdered anyone before so he didn’t really have that problem.

“Let’s just start, I’ll start you with the sub automatic's, we only really use uzi’s. Uzi’s are traditionally israeli guns, it uses a telescoping bolt design that allows the magazine to be stored in the pistol grip making it so the gun can be smaller. Understood?” 

Hansol felt like he needed to write this down.

“It shoots six hundred round a minute, nine millimeter bullets, and is most effective within two hundred metres. Now i’ll teach you how to shoot it, follow me.” Jisoo stood with the gun and walked to another door, still holding the gun. Hansol hastily followed the other to what appeared to be a firing range. Hansol shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was considering it seemed as though the mafia spared no expense when training new recruits. 

Jisoo walked to one of the stations which had ammunition already laid out as well as noise cancelling headphones and glasses. Jisoo gave Hansol one of each before putting them on himself, placing the headphone around his neck instead. Hansol mirrored him. 

He picked up  a pack of the ammo.

“Okay so right now it isn’t loaded and the safety is on. To load just take the pack and click it in like, so.” Jisoo put in the ammo with a crisp click.

“Turn off the safety which means that you just need to flick this little guy.” Jisoo explained motioning to another part of the gun. 

“Now to put ammunition in the chamber you cock this little fucker,” Jisoo pulled the top of the gun back. 

“And now it’s ready to fire. To let only one bullet go press the trigger and immediately release. If you want to empty your magazine and let it spray then just hold the trigger down. Uzi’s are simple guns that will cause a whole lot of damage. Headphones on, no use having you go deaf while we’re practicing.”

Hansol scrambled to place the headphones securely on his ears. Jisoo did so more calmly before pulling out the folding stock and placing it securely at his shoulder. The gun was already set to fire so Jisoo simply got into a proper stance and pulled the trigger once, letting a single bullet hit the paper target right in the center of the paper images chest. The kick back didn’t seem too bad as Jisoo’s shoulder barely moved. He turned to Hansol and put up one finger. Signaling that that was how to shoot just the once. 

He turned back to the target and held the trigger down. 

Bullets flew out of the muzzle faster than Hansol could possibly comprehend. The bullets piercing the paper image at a surreal speed. Jisoo was vibrating with the gun’s kickbacks. Eventually bullets stopped coming out and Jisoo released the magazine and took of his headphones before pressing the button that would bring the target to them. 

Well it would have, but the spray of the uzi had torn the paper so much that barely anything was left on the clamp. Hansol took off his headphones and looked at the target in a mix of fear and interest.

“Your turn.” Jisoo said, turning the safety back on and handing the gun over. Hansol tentatively grabbed the gun and almost dropped it, not expecting it to be so heavy.

“A-Are you sure? I’ve never even held a gun before now and this seems like a big step.” Hansol asked, voice wavering.

“Are you scared of the gun?”

“N-No, I’m scared that I might have to use it on someone.” Hansol answered just above a whisper.

Jisoo smiled. 

“Good answer. Now this is just a target so there’s nothing to be scared of. Just copy what I did and you should be fine.”

Hansol nodded and grabbed a magazine. He was about to put it in when Jisoo grabbed his hands and turned the magazine around. Hansol flushed in embarrassment and put on his headphones once again. He put it in the right way and clicked the safety off, and suddenly the gun felt much heavier. The metal weighing down his strained muscles. He cocked it and settled the folding stock in the crook of his shoulder, copying the stance that he saw Jisoo do. He pulled the trigger one and winced when the gun flew into his already hurting shoulder. He pressed the trigger and held it, clenching his teeth to avoid crying out from the pain in his shoulder. Majority of his bullets missed the targets and instead hit the wall behind, falling to the cement floor harmlessly. He kept holding it until the gun stopped kicking back and he released the magazine like Jisoo had done. He put the safety on and placed the gun down on the surface in front of him with a gasp, not having noticed that he had been holding his breath. 

“That fucking sucked.” He said, cradling his aching shoulder.

“Get used to it. You get to shoot this one ‘til it becomes second nature and then we have to cover three more guns before we’re done for the day. Then you’ll go to Mingyu for some basic hacking lessons.” Jisoo said, Hansol could practically hear the smile in his voice. Jisoo was loving this.


	5. Missing the old days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lovely new edit!   
> this chapter is dedicated to @chilimilk for always leaving supportive comments on each chapter!

Hansol was dead tired. He had been here for a fucking day and his muscles had been worked to the point that he was sure that his limbs would never work properly again, beaten to a coughing, vomiting pulp and been forced to shoot guns until his shoulder and trigger finger were so stiff that he was sure that they were paralyzed. It was around nine when Jisoo was done, letting him go with a smack to the back of his head and ‘do better next time’. He had grabbed a quick dinner from the kitchen which was just instant noodles, nothing like what Minghao had prepared but Hansol was dreadful at cooking anyways. At that point he just wanted to go to his room and sleep until he had to do it all over again. But nothing was easy in the mafia and instead of sleeping he had to spend another hour with Mingyu, who turned out to be a tall, masculine male that spent most of his time in front of a wall of computers. When Hansol had entered the room Mingyu was cross legged on an office chair in his pj’s with a snickers bar shoved inside his mouth. Their time together was enjoyable. Mingyu constantly going off topic to talk about random subjects. But Hansol did learn that he was an amazing hacker, giving him a demonstration by getting into the computer of some important political figure from Japan. Hansol was taught simple thing about finding backdoors, getting through firewalls, ghosting and other technical things. Hansol got to sit the entire time and that in itself was borderline euphoric. He was almost sad to leave at eleven but knew that his new bed was waiting for him.

Upon reaching his room Hansol wasted no time in going straight to his bed. He didn’t bother undressing and instead just throwing himself on top of the covers and falling into much needed dreamless sleep.

 

A prodding in his side woke Hansol up once again. He didn’t say anything and instead just rolled out of bed with a moan.

“Kitchen in fifteen minutes, Jisoo’s making breakfast.” Minghao said with a final prod at Hansol’s aching ribs, leaving the room and slamming the door. Hansol walked over to his closet and was surprised to find that it was now stocked full of clothes, half of it obviously meant for his training as it was all workout clothes whereas the other half was filled with stylish name brand clothes.Hansol grabbed a pair of reebok shorts and a t-shirt. He removed his boots which he had left on last night and grabbed a pair of sneakers from the line of shoes at the bottom of the closet. He didn’t bother putting them on, instead just carrying them and the clothes out of the room and to the washroom. He went through the process of putting his clothes from yesterday into the laundry basket before showering, the hot water loosening his sore muscles.

He dried off using a fluffy white towel and got changed. When he entered the kitchen he saw that it was much more calm compared to the previous morning. Possibly because of the stranger eating from a bowl of lucky charms. When Hansol stepped in the stranger stood up, placed his bowl in the sink and walked out, not saying anything to Hansol. Jisoo who seemed to be making eggs made knowing eye contact with Minghao who had looked up from his phone where he was sitting at the mahogany table.

“Who was that?” Hansol asked, confused by the odd behaviour of the other two. 

“No one, just forget about him.” Jisoo said, turning back to the pan.

Minghao hummed in agreement.

“Fine, don’t tell me.” Hansol said with a huff. Sitting down in the now vacant chair.

Hansol allowed himself a moment to just, think. Think about everything that had happened. So far in just over twenty four hours he had seen someone get killed, had a gun pointed at him, been kidnapped, been forced to join the mafia, had the shit beaten out of him, trained to everyone of his physical limits, learnt how to use a beretta uzi and Cz - 75, and been trained on hacking. All while knowing that he would have to either kill someone of his family, friends, boyfriend, and coworkers would all die. It was a lot to process. His thoughts were interrupted by a plate being placed in front of him. A pile of golden scrambled eggs with ketchup for eyes and a bacon smile paired with what looked like roasted kale.

Hansol slowly looked up at Jisoo who was busy giving Minghao his breakfast, which he took a photo of.

Hansol kept looking at Jisoo, slightly weirded out by the happy eggs in front of him.

“Keep staring at me and that happy pile of eggs will be smashed in your face.” Jisoo said as he sat a few seats away from Minghao. Hansol nodded quickly and dug in, attempting to quench his hunger.

Soon he was heading to what he knew to be the gym. He felt like running but knew that that wasn’t an option. 

Jun greeted him with a smile and a dumbbell.

“C’mon pretty boy, no slacking off.” Jun said and he tossed the heavy weight to Hansol’s feet. 

“Place that over your shoulders and do 75 squats. Go.” Hansol groaned and picked it up. Knowing that protesting would help him in the slightest. 

 

Days went by. The training got more difficult with each passing session but Hansol got stronger. He stopped sleeping so much after a week, his muscles stopped aching after two. Hansol had mastered the strength, hacking and gun knowledge portions of his training within two months. The martial arts still proved to be a challenge but it took years to master those. Hansol still ended up on the floor after his pain training but at least he knew how to do basic nunchuck and kung fu techniques. Eventually when he would return to his room he would just drop to the floor and do basic exercises, push ups and such, because he was too wired to sleep. He still had nightmares though. Dreams filled with him not being able to complete his task and the image of his family being murdered. The television in his room never stopped displaying the live broadcast of his childhood home, some of the rare days when he didn’t have any training Hansol would just sit on his bed and stare at the screen. Watch his sister play in the yard, his parents leaving for work. 

It was one of those days looking at the small television that a police officer, a pretty women with long wavy blonde hair and soft features, knocked on his parents door. When he witnessed his mother drop to her knees in hysterics he had realized why the police were there. He was a missing persons case, probably presumed dead at this point. And for some reason he wasn’t sad about this fact, rather he was happy that if he was in fact presumed dead at least his family would have the closure they needed. Hansol decided that he needed to go for a run, let off some of his built up frustrations. 

 

As Hansol ran he reflected on all that had been taken from him. He had grown to be friends with many of the people in the mafia however he wouldn’t hesitate if given the option of returning to his former life, where he would spend his evening curled on his ratty couch with Seungkwan in his arms as they watched those rom coms Kwan loved. Hansol could never pay attention, instead his attention was always stolen away by his boyfriend. Those holidays where he would take the week or two off of work and go to America to visit his parents. Even the Friday nights where he would grab a drink with his co-workers. With each thought he ran faster through the hallways, legs pumping and muscles burning., his breath grew laboured as the minutes passed. He was turning a corner when he ran head first into something. Hansol threw his hands behind him as he fell, barely preventing his head from hitting the concrete floors and instead bruising his elbows, the pain was minimal however. It was nothing compared to Minghao and that stupid pole.

 

He got to his feet and looked at the thing, or rather person, he had ran into. Still on the floor groaning was Wonwoo, the driver he had only spoken to on certain occasions since him driving Hansol to the base. 

“Shit i’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. Are you okay?” He rambled off, offering his hand to the male. Wonwoo grabbed it and hoisted himself up brushing off the dust from his black t-shirt.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” The black haired man assured. “I was actually trying to find you. Mingyu lost a bet and now he’s treating everyone to drinks, i’m trying to invite as many people as I can, just to screw with him y’know? And I figure that you’ll appreciate getting outside, from what Mingyu’s told me you haven’t been outside yet yeah?” Wonwoo offered.

“Um yeah sure, i’d, i’d really like that.” Hansol said, excited at the prospect of getting out. In his time in the building he grew bored of the white walls and grey floors. He had all but begged Jisoo to get him some decor for his bedroom, needing something,  _ anything _ , to liven the place. Jisoo had returned with a simple walnut wood desk and a crate of cacti. Hansol would never admit that he had appreciated the gift, even after tripping and falling face first into the large one he had in the corner of the room, he had even made Junhui, the one who had removed every single needle from his skin, promise to never mention the incident- even to Minghao.

“Awesome, just make sure to dress up.” Wonwoo said with a nod and walked away with a gentle smile on his face, a warm one that made his eyes crinkle slightly in the corners. Hansol felt like an eight year old on christmas, he was giddy with anticipation. He sprinted back to his room, ignoring his aching legs.

 

Once he reached the wooden door- which Minghao had happily carved in the words ‘password protected by The8’ in neat handwriting despite it being in english. Hansol turned the door knob and rushed inside, going straight to his closet. He pulled out a pair of black skinny jeans, a very large loose blue button up shirt and a pair of dress shoes. He got changed into the clothes and finished it off by securing a nice belt around his waist. He walked over to the body length mirror that he had stolen from Jisoo and applied a scarce amount of brown eyeliner, fixing his hair afterwards. Figuring that someone would come to get him when they left he walked over to his new lounge chair, a replacement for the one he had smashed over Jisoo’s head, and grabbed a book from the small pile on the floor before relaxing against the cool leather, flipping to his place in ‘Insomnia’ by Stephen King. A novel he had taken from the small room of books in the base. He wasn’t sure why it was there but he couldn’t complain. He focused on the words and characters, losing himself to the story.

 

He was ripped from the book when Minghao entered the room, not caring enough to knock. He gave the room a small once over and turned to Hansol.

“We’re leaving now, Wonwoo told me to come get you. They’re already upstairs.” Minghao said, smiling widely. He was probably happy with the fact that he could get a night off as well. He was dressed in a pair of pinstriped trousers, a black suit jacket with a small chain hanging from the breast pocket covered a plain white shirt, black dress shoes similar to the ones Hansol was wearing covering his feet. 

Hansol nodded and dog eared the page, something he knew his boyfriend, probably ex boyfriend by now, always berated him for. He stood and followed the other male out of the room.

 

Hansol was led into a hall by Minghao who kept his hand securely on the gun in his pocket, a similar action of Jisoo who stood a few metres behind Hansol. Minghao stopped at the very end of the hall, extending his hand to a spot on the wall he took a minute to scan with his eyes. The steel doors opposite him opened after a few seconds to reveal a elevator with faint music playing which Hansol could just barely recognize as an older EXO song from 2016. The three walked in just for Jisoo to reach his hand over to press a very worn out top button. 


	6. No booze for the baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a new update! i rushed to get a good amount of words for this chapter but i really hope all you lovely's enjoy it!

 

When the doors opened Hansol’s first thought was why they insisted on him dressing up. They opened to a grungy room which he swore he saw a spider climb down one of the walls of. His curiosity was solved, however, when Minghao led him to the door which opened to neon lights and loud music. Jisoo and Minghao passed Hansol to meet up with some unfamiliar faces. After his friends ditched him Hansol decided it was best to just hit up the (extremely modern) jukebox. His eyes landed on a song he knew from his time in America and pressed the screen as he smiled thinking of his past. He took a moment to reflect back on the last two months and how much he had changed in such a short amount of time. He wandered around the bar for several minutes after that, peeking around at the very expensive looking decorations. His fun was then interrupted by Minghao’s yelling; gesturing for Hansol to join them at the other side of the bar. 

 

Jisoo and Minghao sat opposite each other, glass in hand each. Jisoo sat next to a boy who had his arm over the Jisoo while he recognized the boy next to Minghao as Junhui from training. As he scanned the scene he noticed Jisoo was smiling as he continued to talk to the boy next to him, who was laughing at the other’s antics. 

 

“Is he drunk?” Hansol asked Minghao over the music.

“Probably. Most of us are,” he laughed.

“You’re not though, right?”

“No,” Minghao looked up. “I am, why?”

Hansol was taken aback. “You don’t, seem like it.”

“You think we’re all like him when we’re drunk?” He pointed to Jisoo. 

“He’s the sober drunk,” Junhui added. Hansol nodded in understanding. 

“Turn this shit up!” Jisoo looked up as Hansol sat down.  _ Really, Jisoo? NCT DREAM?  _

 

After a few more shots and laughs from them all, the back door opened to a shorter male in an outfit he would catch Minghao in on an average day. He wore tight black jeans and a black band tee with a jacket around his waist and what looked like designer sneakers. Everyone but Wonwoo and Mingyu (already pre-occupied by Mingyu struggling to get Wonwoo to stop dancing on top of the bar; he had already slipped twice) focused on the man, looking away when he cast an icy glare around the room.

 

“Chan!” the boy beside Jisoo stood up, after picking up Jisoo and sliding him onto a chair beside Junhui to be taken care of.

“Jeonghan,” the boy, Chan, smiled as he was handed a drink, only to have it taken away from Minghao as he sat down.

“No alcohol for the baby.” Minghao said very matter-of-factly, causing Jeonghan and Junhui to laugh.

“Minghao,”

“Should I get some apple juice for you instead?” Minghao teased as he ruffled Chan’s hair. At this point Jisoo had stood up from his seat and was putting his arms around Chan as he cooed him from behind. 

“Verny get baby Chan an apple juice.” Jisoo giggled.

“Is-is he serious?” Hansol quietly asked Jeonghan. To his surprise the older nodded and Hansol blinked before shrugging and walking over to the bar that actually did have apple juice. While he was there he ordered a drink himself, Jisoo, and Minghao and stalked back to their table.

“Here is your… apple juice, and for you.” Hansol set down the drinks for his friends, only to be met with a concerned look from Jeonghan.

“Do you really think Jisoo needs another one of these?”

“What are you, his boyfriend?” Hansol laughed.  

“Actually I am, so I why don’t we just take this away,” Jeonghan said as he slid the shot away from his boyfriend.

Jisoo made an odd whining sound and reached for the small glass of vodka. Jeonghan just leaned away and swung it back, wheezing slightly and scrunching his face.

“I forgot that I hated vodka, ugh.” He said with a grimace.

Jisoo pushed him away. The man instead drooped himself lazily over the shoulders of Chan who was quietly sipping away at a pint that he had gotten one of the random men that Hansol couldn’t recognize to order for him. He chuckled at Jisoo and slid the apple juice closer towards the other man, obviously hinting at who the real child was in this scenario.

Jisoo huffed and pushed him away also, standing up with a wobble and tripped his way over to Minghao before sitting himself on the mans lap. Minghao didn’t seem surprised at this instead wrapping his arms around the man's waist as if this was a regular thing; which it probably was.

“So Chan, what do you do here anyways? I’ve only met a few people so far and I don’t really know anything about Daeshun Hwa yet. Who are you? What’s your story?” Hansol asked, slightly buzzed even though he had only had a few shots that he had downed quickly when he had reached the table and was working on a glass of whiskey. 

“Damn, straight to the point. I uh, I sort stuff out. Logistics and shit. And my story? ‘Ain't much to it, kinda got strung along in this shit ‘cause of family y’know? Born and raised mafia. I uh, I’m nineteen and single, gay too. Never had a boyfriend. Not much else, my life kinda revolves around Daeshun Hwa, yeah?” Chan answered in a smooth and relatively deep voice. He seemed to have a way of making everything into a question; he also didn’t use honorifics but that hardly mattered to Hansol anyways.

“Guys you know what we should do.” Hansol turned to Minghao, waiting for him to continue. 

“We should have a dance off.” Minghao said with a playful smirk on his face. To Hansol he could definitely pass for sober, his unfocused eyes the only sign that he had been drinking at all. 

 

Minghao stood up, making Jisoo drop to the floor and walked over to the jukebox putting on  _ Gee  _ by Girls’ Generation.

“Jessica Jung wouldn’t do this to me,” Jisoo whined with one leg still on Minghao’s chair. Jeonghan went to pick Jisoo up and the rest joined Minghao on the dance floor. The ‘dance off’ lasted only a couple minutes as Minghao, Chan, and Junhui ended up dancing the choreography and Jeonghan sat in the corner with Jisoo on his lap trying to hit the high notes.

When the song ended Hansol counted about five broken chairs (which he wasn’t sure who from) and a few bruises from Wonwoo and Mingyu attempting to crash the party. If Hansol was being honest the whole night felt like a dream; And what scared Hansol was that he didn’t really want to wake up.

 

The fun had died down a bit and Minghao hinted to the group that it was time to leave. As Jeonghan lifted a sleeping Jisoo onto his back they all began heading back to the back where the elevator was.  It was a tight fit but no one minded. How can you when your drunken mind can barely form a coherent thought.

 

Somehow Hansol made it back to his room and without even thinking he flung himself on top of his bed covers and fell into a peaceful drunken sleep.

 

Hansol woke to the same feeling of a gun being poked against his ribs to which he turned over in attempt to avoid Minghao. 

“You can’t hide Verny!” Minghao yelled in a mock dramatic tone as Hansol groaned.

“Jisoo is waiting for us in my room, we have something to discuss. So get your ass out of bed and dressed. I’ll wait outside.” Minghao said before stepping out the door.

Hansol threw himself off the bed, landing with a thump on the ground. He stood up and got changed into a pair of black skinny jeans, a black hoodie with a picture on the front and a sleek black bomber jacket lined with red. He had almost stepped out of the room before swirling around and grabbing a pair of red converse. He exited the room and walked over to Minghao who was a few feet away on his phone. He looked up and quietly led Hansol to where Jisoo was.

 

Minghao took Hansol to what he assumed was his room. It was spacious with an obvious modern-ish raw theme. One wall with exposed brick painted black and the other walls painted a nice tan colour. A neatly made bed was pressed against the middle of the black wall and various pieces of furniture scattered around the room in an almost artistic manner. However what immediately caught Hansol’s attention upon entrance was a large white fridge placed next to a looming bookshelf. Hansol cocked his eyebrow at the white box, recalling the first conversation he had had with Minghao and Jisoo. Jisoo who was in fact sitting in a beautiful grey chair next to a white rug, two identical chairs sitting opposite.

“You’re up,” Jisoo broke the silence. Hansol sensed from his tone he was stressed and sat down on one of the chairs opposite the him, Minghao doing the same in the chair next to him.

“I’m gonna be straight with you here, Sol. We’ve got a big case on our hands.” Jisoo tossed him a folder.

“Im Daejoon,” Hansol read over the first page in the folder.

“Known for organizing raids and recruiting members for Boo Muhak’s gang in secret while being a huge loan shark for Daeshun Hwa.” Minghao added, looking down.

“All he is is a filthy rat that double crossed us.” Jisoo snarled in a disgusted tone.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Hansol’s eyes widened.

Minghao’s brows furrowed. “What?”

“Boo Muhak. Can you give me more information on him?”  Hansol asked slowly. Jisoo and Minghao exchanged looks with each other before focusing back to Hansol.

“You want more information on the most dangerous gang leader in Seoul?”

Hansol stared back at the two; mouth agape. 

“That’s Seungkwan’s dad, my ex boyfriend Seungkwan?” his voice cracked at ‘ex’ but stuck to the more important matter.

“We’ll get to that.” Minghao deadpanned, as he quickly changed the subject back to the case at hand.

“Im Daejoon needs to be killed by midnight tomorrow. Junhui and Minghao will assist you in training for the next few hours. When you’re done, come to me for some weapon choosings. We clear?”

Hansol stayed seated as Minghao and Jisoo quickly left, each going back to their rooms.

 

Boo Muhak had served him dinner before; had helped him with his broken car. There’s no way it could be the same man. Yet again, Minghao seemed to dodge the comment as soon as he brought it up. Hansol shook it off for a minute to head to his room before his training for the day started. 

 

Junhui went easy on him, just going over basic technique to remember for fights and such, barely touching on physical training. Minghao had him train with both wushu and nunchuck techniques for a longer period than usual, not doing the pain resistance as he wanted Hansol to be in peak physical performance for the task tomorrow. Hansol put his all into focusing on the training rather than Boo Muhak, besides, it was probably a different guy anyways. There’s ‘gotta be more than one Boo Muhak in Seoul so Hansol was probably just being an idiot. With this he felt like a weight was off his shoulders so he just put his all into swinging the nunchucks in his hands. Once he got his rhythm he lost himself, as always, to his thoughts. This time around he was focused on Seungkwan. He had lost his feelings for the other man over the course of the last few months but he still missed him; not as a lover but as a friend. Seungkwan was always someone he could turn to when he had something on his chest or just had a shitty day. Hansol huffed as he placed the nunchucks away on the wall that held the training supplies that couldn’t be thrown in a bin. He grabbed a towel and patted at his damp face. 

“You’ve improved a lot since the beginning.” Minghao said, repeating Hansol’s actions. 

“Well I’d hope so, looking back I was pretty fucking pathetic.” Hansol chuckled.

“Yeah that sounds about right.” He replied, laughing slightly.”

“And now I’m almost able to win against you in an arm wrestle.” Hansol teased.

“Oh sure Verny, whatever makes you feel better about your recent loss that put you at one hundred and sixty eight; and I remain at zero.” Minghao said, shaking his head. 

Hansol pouted as he began cleaning the equipment Junhui had had him using.

 

“I’ve got this Verny, Jisoo wants you to get a good night’s rest ‘cause this is your first mission, trust me you’ll need it.” Minghao said insistently. Taking the supplies straight out of Hansol’s hands.

Hansol looked at Minghao, slightly dubious as  the older seemed to always have ulterior motives for absolutely everything. 

“Okay. . . Well goodnight Hao.” Hansol said as he turned around. He realised what he said and tensed up, never calling Minghao anything other than exactly that. He turned slowly, trying to catch Minghao’s (probably negative) reaction. He was not prepared to see the ravenette sporting a relaxed grin.   
“Night Verny.”


	7. First class

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're so sorry this is late!! chnahee is in the midst of moving right and ive been working non stop while preparing to move myself!! we may be a little inconsistent for the time being but hopefully everything will calm down once we're settled into school work and since we are both moving, our new places as well

It was when Hansol had begun strapping the holster across his chest that he realized that he would most likely have to witness or cause the death of a man today. And he wasn’t going to be unrealistic and say that after all of his training this thought didn’t affect him. In all honesty, he was scared shitless. What if he couldn’t do it? Jisoo and Minghao were good people but if they thought that he was unable to perform in the mafia perhaps they would think it best to dispose of him, whether it be in their own or the godfathers best interest. Hansol shivered and almost dropped his suit jacket. Jisoo had delivered a jet black two-piece suit to his room alongside a blood red dress shirt earlier that morning saying that it was their ‘business attire’. Hansol didn’t know why but he found the fact that a suit was their business attire made him feel even more uneasy.

He tugged on a pair of loafers and walked out of the room.

 

Hansol walked down the hallway to the elevator. Deciding to wait patiently outside for Minghao and Jisoo. He had just leaned back against the wall - hands shoved inside his pockets - when he saw Jisoo approaching him, adjusting the collar of his own redshirt. Hansol kicked off the wall to meet the man.

“You ready?” Jisoo questioned, eyebrow raised slightly.

“No but that’s not ‘gonna get me anywhere is it,” Hansol replied with a half-hearted chuckle.

“You’re not wrong,” Jisoo said with a small smile giving Hansol a quick once-over to check that he was in order.

“That idiot didn’t give you any shoes did he?” Jisoo said; exasperated.

“Was he supposed to?” Hansol asked, self consciously shuffling his feet.

“Yeah he was, those things, while pretty, aren’t good for anything. I’ll be right back.” Jisoo said and began jogging down the hall, shoving Minghao’s shoulder as he passed the other man.

Minghao walked towards Hansol absentmindedly rubbing his shoulder.

“Dickbag.” He cursed under his breath.

Hansol hummed at the odd insult.

“I thought you were pretty much immune to pain?” Hansol said, gesturing to Minghao’s shoulder that he kept rubbing.

“First of all, not immune. I’ve built up a tolerance. Second of all, it's not the shove itself its the fact that Shua did it! Shoving me for no fucking reason. What’s he doing anyway? We ’gotta go soon, Wonu’s waiting.” The man grumbled.

“He said that my shoes were wrong and ran off. . .” Hansol answered, massaging the back of his neck.

“Shit, I knew I forgot to do something. Can’t kick someone right with those things, plus they’re Prada so it would be a waste.” Minghao said innocently.

Hansol hid the fact that just mentioning kicking someone made him feel like he was going to puke. Instead, he opted to change the topic; for his own sake.

“Who’s ‘Wonu’?” Hansol asked, keeping his voice steady despite his nerves.

“Wonwoo, but Wonu’s cuter so now he’s Wonu,” Minghao said with a wave of his hand. Minghao opened his mouth to say something else just as Jisoo returned. In his hands were loafers, somewhat similar to Hansol’s own, but with silver tipped toes.

“Uh Jisoo, care to explain why I need these instead of the ones I’m wearing?” Hansol said quizzically.

“These, while looking completely normal, are steel toed, plus they’re made of a waterproof material so they’re easy to clean, pack a punch - or kick in your case- and still make you look great.” The man said with a grin. Hansol only now looked at the others shoes and noticed that the both of them adorned pairs almost the exact same, The only difference being that Jisoo’s were a shining gold color whilst Minghaos were a shiny deep ebony. Hansol gulped as he slid out of his own shoes and into the pair offered to him.

“Nervous Verny?” Minghao said. Hansol couldn’t determine if it was mocking or genuinely sympathetic. Most likely the former.

He swallowed his fears and attempted to settle his queasy stomach.

“Of course not Hao.”

-

“Oh hell, the fuck no.”

Hasnol stared dumbly at the three sleek black motorcycles in front of him. The bike stood in a perfect row as if their sole purpose was to intimidate the shit out of the man.

“Oh hell the fuck yes is what you should be saying in front of these beautiful creatures,” Jisoo said crassly as he grabbed a matching black helmet with a tinted visor from the shelf of the excessively large garage.

“Creatures of death?” Hansol said incredulously. Refusing to hop on one of the machines his mom had raised him to call donor-cycles.

Minghao turned to him and grasped his right shoulder in a vise grip.

“Either you get on one Verny, or under one.” He said with a smile that contrasted his icy tone of voice.

Hansol gulped, and while he knew that his friend was most likely doing what he did best, fucking with people, he didn’t want to take any chances and possibly lose his limbs (or life) to the motorcycles. He clenched his teeth and grabbed a helmet identical to Jisoos. He shoved it on his head and pretended that his ears weren't folded uncomfortable against the padding. He buckled it up and walked over to the bike on the furthermost left.

“How the hell do you ride one of these things?” He questioned, glaring at the bike through his visor.

“Well, then we’ll have to teach you,” Jisoo said matter of factly.

-

Twenty minutes later, after a very in-depth lesson on how not to crash Hansol felt somewhat more comfortable on the death machine. And he had begun realizing that his mother was in fact wrong when she said how high the percentage of crashing was. He had learned that it was much less high than cars and that most motorcycle crashes were caused by cars. So with some of his fears quenched and the bike purring underneath him, he waited for Minghao to open the garage door. The dark haired man did so and ran to his bike, swinging a leg onto it and starting the engine. The three left in sync; Hansol barely catching a glimpse of someone closing the door in his rearview mirror. He found that being on the bike was surprisingly easy, not nearly as unsteady or difficult as he had imagined.

They ripped through the streets towards a destination Hansol had no knowledge of. Hansol kept up with the other two as they neared what seemed to be an airport. He assumed that maybe they were meeting the man, Im, there to deal with him. They parked near the doors, took off their helmets, and entered the building. The airport was crowded with people rushing to catch last-minute flights and others waiting around for theirs to land.

“What are we doing here?” Hansol asked, looking around.

“Well Verny, we, like everyone else here, are boarding a flight,” Minghao said, pulling out a small piece of paper and gesturing for Hansol to take it.

 

“Shanghai Pudong Airport…” Hansol reads quietly to himself, as he trails behind the others.

 

Minghao gestures to Jisoo pointing to the Starbucks at the far end; Jisoo and Hansol following.

“What are we doing? Don’t we have a flight to board? It takes like an hour to get through security.” Hansol whispered to Jisoo.

“Oh sweetie, you have no idea what we do.” Jisoo mock pouted.

Just as Hansol was about to interject he looked up to see Minghao disassembling the barriers in line as people began shouting at him. Minghao rolled his eyes as he looked at Jisoo and Hansol in annoyance to join him at the front of the line.

“We’ll take a venti strawberry coconut refresher, extra syrup and easy on the ice,” Minghao ordered quickly and waited for Jisoo to order.

“Tall black coffee,” Minghao rolled his eyes. “And a grande blended cold brew” he smiled at the barista, a shorter teenage male with large round glasses.

 

As the boys finished paying Hansol looked over in shock at Minghao.

“Can you do that? Cut in line like that?” Jisoo laughed.

“Just, follow our lead. And don’t make a scene.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Hansol followed blindly as Jisoo and Minghao walked briskly through the airport, as they made their way to security. As they drew closer one guard looked up with his back straight, nodded at Minghao as the trio made their way through. Quietly whispering ‘what the fuck’ to himself, Hansol smiled awkwardly at the guards as they made their way towards customs and the rest of security.

 

Hansol swore his airport experience would never be the same again. With Minghao and Jisoo leading, they had made it past every security in a solid ten minutes, and he swore he saw Jisoo turn off the metal detector as they walked through with smiles directed at every security in the airport. The guards all stood still as some even held their breath at the sight of Jisoo and Minghao.

 

“Welcome to the mafia, Verny.” Jisoo quietly smiled at Hansol as they briskly walked past general boarding, and to Hansol’s surprise, what he assumed was first class to stop at the cleanest, biggest part of the airport.

 

“This is us?” Minghao nodded. Hansol could get used to this.

 

They boarded the plane after a half an hour or so; the flight attendant welcoming them to their suite at the back. The flight would only last a good two hours or so but their area was set up as if they were traveling overnight. Hansol couldn’t complain though, as he spotted Jisoo and Minghao ordering drinks from the bar outside their suite.

 

“Peanuts?” Minghao offered with a quick smile, as he stood with a glass of red wine in his hand.

 

“Oh, uh, sure,” Hansol accepted.

“Hey, you okay?” Minghao sat down, noticing the slight nervousness in Hansol’s tone.

Hansol sighed. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine, it’s just strange, all this.”   
“Oh, I get that. Hey, remember my sob story? It took me a while to get used to all this too, but you’re doing really well. I’m shocked… and impressed.”   
Hansol smiled. “Thank you.” He turned his attention to Jisoo who sat at the bar still, chatting up the bartender who was keeping his attention.   
“Is he-”   
“Fucking hell Shua it’s been ten minutes how did you even get drunk that fast…” Minghao stood up, rolling his eyes as he went to collect his friend.

 

The rest of the flight was a blur; Hansol could see Minghao with a glass of wine for most of the trip as Jisoo ended up asleep next to him.

-

The three exited and paid the cab near the river by a large warehouse. Hansol knew that asking about where they were wouldn’t get him anywhere. So instead the man just followed Jisoo and Minghao into the warehouse. Inside more people than Hansol could count were sitting in rows packing a mixture of things, from electronics and manufacturing parts to ammunition, into wooden crates. Minghao and Jisoo ignored this and instead walked past it all towards a small steel door in the back, the edges rusted with either age or water damage. The trio went through the door and Hansol felt the nerves he had felt earlier return tenfold. Inside a chubby man with pig-like features and in need of a good shave judging from the scruff on his lower face. He was tied painfully with nylon rope to a metal chair. His face sported a bruise on his jaw that looked so blue it was bordering on black. He was wide awake and looked as though he was going to shit himself, sweat dripping off his face.

“Im,” Minghao said with an expression like ice, making even Hansol’s blood run cold.

 


	8. Bile

The man started whimpering then.  
“M-Mr. Xu, I swear I didn’t do anything!” He all but yelled in fear and desperation.  
“Is that right Im? Or would you prefer Daejoon.” Jisoo replied, slowly going around to the back of the chair and running his hand across his shoulders before coming back to his place beside Hansol who was fighting to look as collected as the other two.  
“I s-swear! I’m loyal to Daeshun Hwa and Daeshun Hwa only! I would never do anything for Boo’s gang!” He cried out.  
“You see, we never mentioned Boo’s gang, for all you know we could have brought you here because you’re making profits drop. I’m sure that the boss wouldn’t hire an idiot, are you an idiot Im?” Minghao said like a tiger who had found its prey.  
Daejoon became more panicked than before if that was possible.  
“One of the g-goons you had grab me mentioned the.” He stuttered.  
“Oh did they? Because they had orders not to say a word to you or each other, plus they’re Chinese, do you speak mandarin Daejoon?” Minghao said.  
Daejoon seemed to clam up then and instead just let a small sob escape his mouth.  
“Now now now Daejoon, stop crying like a pussy and give us information. How many did you recruit.”  
“P-please Xu, I’m a good Christian, I have a family, a wife and two children.”  
“Does it look like I give a shit about your family. But we’ll make sure to give them something to remember you by.” he replied.  
“You’re a good looking guy, don’t you have a girlfriend? W-wouldn’t you do anything for her?”  
“I’m what you would call a ‘faggot’ Daejoon. So is Joshua here. What about you Vernon, Do you like dick?” Minghao said disturbingly happily.  
“I’m into guys, yeah.” Hansol said, somehow keeping his voice steady.  
Daejoon’s eyes widened slightly.  
“No way, the boss wouldn’t hire a bunch of homos, y-you’re just trying to mess with me.” he said with a nervous chuckle.  
“Well considering he is one you shouldn’t be surprised, now let’s get back on topic shall we?”  
“Please Xu, I don’t care that you’re g-gay. Just let me go home to my family.”  
“Please Daejoon, I know about the mistress you have in Singapore, and you barely speak to your kids.” Jisoo said plainly.  
“You just don’t understand! I-I’m never home! I have needs!”  
“Mhm.” Minghao hummed before kicking Daejoon in the chest, making him fall backward in the chair.  
“How many and what is Boo having them do.” Jisoo asked in the same dangerous tone he had used on Hansol the time he broke a chair on his head.  
“I-I can’t tell you, they’ll kill me.” Daejoon groaned from the floor.  
Minghao walked over and placed his foot on Daejoons shin.  
“How many and what is Boo having them do.” He said smoothly.  
“Please Xu, I c-can’t say anything.” The man whimpered.  
Minghao nodded with a sympathetic expression before bringing his foot up and smashing it down on the body part.  
The thing was that this was one of those chairs where the legs are connected by poles at the bottom which Daejoons feet were tied to whilst his hips were tied around the seat of the chair, so when Minghao brought down his foot it was as if he was stomping on a tree branch, simply snapping.  
Daejoon let out a hellish scream as part of his broken bone pierced the flesh of his thigh, barely peeking out.

Hansol felt bile rise in his throat as he looked at the caved in lower leg, blood was dripping from where the bone stuck out and Hansol swore the quick drip drip of blood was louder than the man’s screams. Minghao and Jisoo stood silently at each side of him, waiting for the screams to subside. After what felt like hours but was surely only a few minutes the screams stopped and were replaced by the sound of heaving breaths.  
“How many and what is Boo having them do.” Jisoo said calmly as if the man didn’t have a broken leg.  
“Puh-Please s-stop, I cuh-can’t say anything!” Daejoon said between sobs.  
Jisoo hummed and grabbed the man by his greasy hair, pulling him and the chair up by it. Daejoon groaned at the pain in his scalp.  
“How many and what is Boo having them do.” Minghao and Jisoo seemed to be taking turns saying the chilling sentence.  
Daejoon clenched his jaw.  
Jisoo nodded and pulled a small white plastic bottle from his inner jacket pocket, a label was on it but from where Hansol was standing it was impossible to read the small writing.  
Jisoo extended his hand to Minghao who stepped over to a small rolling cart and grabbed a thick plastic glove and handed it over to Jisoo who placed it on his hand and popped the cap of the bottle.  
“W-what is that.” Daejoon whimpered fearfully.  
“How many and what is Boo having them do,” was Jisoo’s only reply.  
“Please Hong! I-I can’t say anything! I don’t want to die!” He wailed. Minghao lent towards his ear and whispered into the tense silence of the room.  
“In a few seconds, you’ll wish you were.”  
Minghao jumped away just as Jisoo splashed the substance on Daejoon’s groin. At first nothing happened and Hansol held his breath. And then after only a few moments it began to smoke, just little wisps but Hansol knew.

Jisoo just poured acid on Daejoon.

The fabric of Daejoon’s cheap suit trousers began to melt away and soon Daejoon was screaming in a way that Hansol knew was going to haunt his nightmares. His back hit the metal wall even though he wasn’t aware that he had been backing away from the scene.  
“How many men did you recruit and what is Boo having them do.”  
Minghao was answered only with Im’s screams.  
Jisoo tsked and placed down the bottle and glove on the cart before leaning to Daejoon’s ear and speaking clearly waving another plastic bottle in front of his face.  
“This is calcium gluconate. It can cancel the effects of the acid for the most part. You’ll never be able to screw that aids infested cunt you have in Singapore but you’ll live. So tell us what we want to know and it’ll stop burning through that tic-tac you have for a dick. And know that if I pour this and you don’t say anything I have another bottle.” Jisoo said calmly.  
Daejoon continued screaming and crying but there was no mistaking the frantic nods of his head.  
“See how easy it is.” Jisoo said cheerfully and poured the contents of the bottle on the same place as the acid. Daejoon sighed through his hiccuping sobs.  
“Y-y-you all a-are m-monsters.” He cried.  
“Good to know.” Minghao said before punching Daejoon in the face eliciting a groan from the older man.  
“You made a promise Daejoon.” Jisoo said, beginning to reach into his jacket once more for what was unmistakably another bottle.  
“N-no I’ll tell you. P-please don’t.” He sobbed.  
“Tell us.” Minghao said, stroking Daejoon’s face affectionately.  
“O-okay, I recruited thirty f-four men.”  
“That’s a lot for a gang that mainly does small robberies; what’s Boo planning,” Minghao ordered.  
“H-he said that he knew who the boss was and t-that he w-was going to storm the base. Take over Daeshun Hwa”  
“Does he know where it is? The main base?” Jisoo asked seriously.  
“No, but he said s-something about kidnapping someone, a new blood. He figured that it would be e-easier to get the information out of them.” Daejoon said as clearly as possible through his sobs.  
“Thank you Im. Your cooperation is most appreciated.” Minghao stated as he patted the man’s shoulder as he let out a sigh of relief.  
“However.” Minghao tightened his grip on the flesh to the point that it was obviously painful and a look of horror took over the man’s face.  
“You refused to tell us anything. You lied to our faces Im, and everyone knows that I hate liars.” Minghao said.  
“Y-you were going to let me go!” The man yelled.  
“I don’t recall saying that. Did I say that Vernon?” Hansol blinked a few times and took a shaky breath.  
“No, I d-don’t, no you didn’t Eight.” Minghao hummed.  
“See, never said that. But don’t worry.” He released the man’s shoulder and placed it on the top of his head affectionately.  
“I do recall saying we’d give your family something to remember you by.” Minghao yanked his head back painfully so that he was staring at the ceiling.  
“Vernon. You can’t just stand around doing nothing. I need a second pair of hands.” Hansol resisted the urge to tell him Jisoo was right there.  
He gulped and slowly walked towards the man. The need to puke returned as he saw the true horror of the man.  
His genitals were just melted charred bits of flesh, there was almost nothing left. He felt himself shaking and tore his eyes away from the man to look at Minghao.  
“Grab that paring knife from the cart.” Hansol nodded and silently grabbed the weapon.  
“Now, I’m going to need you to remove his eyes, for his children, then his lips for his ‘dear wife’.”  
Hansol felt as if the knife was going to fall out of his hand he was shaking so bad.  
“Remove?” He said, the fear evident in his voice. Minghao sighed and placed his hand over Hansol’s.  
“Look, I know you’re scared, but this is what your life is now.” Minghao’s tone was stern and left nothing to be desired. Hansol’s fear ridden mind decided that instead of just doing it however, as it would be happening regardless of who did it, he slammed the knife down on the cart and looked at Minghao  
“No.” His voice was firm but he knew that he looked like a mess at the moment.  
Something dark took over Minghao’s delicate features and Hansol wanted to turn and run away at that moment, but he knew he couldn’t back down.  
“Excuse me?” Minghao said this in such a way that he wasn’t used to people defying him. Hansol wasn’t sure he was comfortable being the first.  
Instead he ignored the fact that his stomach was in his throat and continued.  
“You heard me. I’m not mutilating a man, not while he’s alive.” Hansol told the other.  
At this point Jisoo had looked up from where he was cleaning blood off his shoes.  
“L-listen to him Xu, please don’t do this.” Daejoon sobbed. Minghao growled and grabbed a rag that was on the cart and shoved it so far down Daejoon’s throat he almost gagged.  
“Do it.” He snarled.  
“No.”  
“FUCKING DO IT!” He yelled, anger burning in his dark irises.  
Hansol had never heard the man yell before and it made him scared. He was a baby lamb facing off against a mountain lion.  
“Please don’t make me do this. I’ve lost so much because of this mafia shit. Please let me keep my morals.” Hansol was crying, tears falling down his face gracefully. Minghao’s gaze softened and he sighed, walking towards Hansol as he placed his arms around him in a hug. Hansol continued crying silently, screwing his eyes shut as he clutched the front of Minghao’s suit, his face in his shoulder. Minghao stroked his hair soothingly and kept his voice gentle and warm.  
“I know you’re scared, and tired, I know that. I know that we took your life away from you but it was that or kill you Sol. And I know it’s not ideal but this is your life now; you’re going to have to do things that scare and disgust you; and as horrible as it sounds you will get used to it. You can do this, I know you can. You’re strong Sol, stronger than anyone i’ve ever met. Your life completely changed and even though it’s only been two months you’re thriving. Morals don’t exist in the Mafia, but I know you can move past this Sol. This won’t make who you are.” Minghao pulled away and stared into Hansol’s tear filled eyes.  
“Okay?” He all but whispered.  
Hansol sniffed and nodded in defeat and understanding.  
“That’s it Sol.” He smiled and gave a quick peck to Hansol’s forehead. Minghao whipped away the tears on his face with the pads of his thumbs and stepped to the side, allowing Hansol access to the man.

Hansol accepted a pair of leather gloves Jisoo was offering and slipped them on, he grabbed the knife and subconsciously noted that his hand wasn’t shaking anymore. He stood directly beside the man and brought the knife to his eye, using his other hand to keep his eyelid open. Hansol felt as if he was no longer in control of his own body, rather he felt like he was spectating as his hand slipped the knife right above the eye into the socket. He used the brow bone as leverage to push the organ out, leaving it to hang from the optic nerve and rest on his cheek. His hand used the knife to slice the cord and he barely caught it as the man started screaming best he could around the rag and thrashing in his restraints. He put it on the cart as Minghao decided to hold Daejoon’s shoulders as Jisoo kept his head still. Hansol watched as his body reached over and repeated the process on the other eye, placing it next to the other. Daejoon’s face was covered in blood as the red liquid spurted out of the empty sockets. Hansol reached and pulled the rag out of the man’s mouth to realize that he had passed out from the pain which Hansol was more than thankful for. He pulled Im’s chin down as pushed the knife through the flesh at the corner of his mouth, leaving a few millimeters between the knife and the unconscious man's mouth. He found that the knife wasn’t sharp enough to just slice through the flesh so he began sawing away at the skin. It only took him a minute to have the lips off and in his gloved hand. Daejoon seemed to come back to a state of consciousness and Hansol snapped out of whatever state he was in at the strangled animalistic screams of the heavily mutilated man. He dropped the knife once again felt bile in his throat. He ran to a corner of the room and threw up everything in his stomach. Once he was done he made his way back over Minghao, Jisoo and the still screaming Daejoon. He stared at the man’s empty sockets covered in blood and his lipless mouth. He had done this. He had put this man through unimaginable hell and he was still suffering. He reached into his jacket and pulled out his CZ-75, standard police issue, and cocked the hammer. He wasted no time in pulling the trigger and letting a bullet fly into the man’s forehead. He felt himself begin hyperventilating and his hand fell to his sides like lead, he dropped his gun and backed away until his back was pressed against the wall. He felt as though every breath he took gave him no air. He gripped the front of his hair, not noticing that blood was now covering his face.  
Jisoo and Minghao exchanged a sympathetic look at the man and walked over. Jisoo squatted down and spoke reassuring things to Hansol that the man couldn’t understand through the muffled haze he was in. Minghao worked on prying his hands off his face and wiped the blood off with the sleeve of his jacket. Both paused however when Hansol began laughing. He clutched his knees that were curled into his chest and began rocking back and forth, laughing hysterically. Minghao looked at Hansol with great concern as Jisoo sighed and sat next to him, pulling him to rest on him lap and patting the terrified mans head.  
“He’s in shock, it’ll pass in a few minutes.” He said to Minghao who nodded in understanding.

Once Hansol was in a reasonable state of mind, still feeling disgusted and inhumane albeit, but stable they took some clothes from one of the crates and changed, keeping only their shoes. Minghao told Hansol that it was no big deal before they walked out. They made their was downtown in silence, until Minghao pressed them against a brick wall of an alley by a small cafe.  
“Boo’s men, eight of ‘em, we need to get to the airport,” Minghao said urgently to which Jisoo nodded and began looking around to find and escape. He seemed to find it when he nudged Minghao’s shoulder and pointed to a black Mitsubishi Dignity with an uber sticker in the bottom corner of the wind shield.

“Sol, get in.” Jisoo deadpanned.  
“What is this, our Uber?” Hansol chuckled, causing Jisoo and Minghao to look at each other for a moment.  
“Sure, if that’ll make you feel less guilty about threatening someone to drive us back.”  
“Wait what-”

Hansol’s thoughts were interrupted as he was pulled into the back seat by his arm, courtesy of Minghao.

“Woah, woah, woah, hold on. What’s going on here? I’m waiting for one guy, not three. Are any of you mister Almasi?” the man who sat in the driver’s seat exclaimed, obviously shocked and confused as Jisoo climbed into the passenger. 

“Not exactly, but you’re an Uber driver, and we need a ride.” Jisoo smiled as he spoke back in Mandarin to the man, as if mocking him.

“You’ll need to pay for that, I’m afraid. This isn’t a free service,”

Jisoo sighed, pulling out a small handgun and pointing it at the man’s face.

“Let me repeat myself; we need a ride Sir.” the man paused for a moment.   
“You need a ride. Got it! Snacks, anyone?” the man’s demeanor changed as he laughed nervously, pulling out a small plastic container of multi- colored gummy bears.

“No thanks, just the airport.” Minghao spoke from the backseat.


	9. Whiskey tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SORRY LIFES BEEN SO HECTIC BUT HERES A NEW CHAPTER
> 
> WE'RE SO SO SORRY PLEASE DONT HURT US

As they began to drive away, the man looked up, smiling.

“I’m Xuxi, by the way,” 

“We don’t care.” came Jisoo’s response.

“Or Yukhei, you know, whatever floats your boat. My friends call me Lucas sometimes too.”

“We really-” Jisoo sighed.

“Hold on, wait, why do you have two Chinese names? I only get one, that’s not fair…”

“Minghao this isn’t something you need to-”

“Hey, you’re Chinese too? Man, small world!” The man, Xuxi, exclaimed.

“We’re literally in China right now,” Jisoo replied, at this point Hansol being the only one listening, though Jisoo was pretty sure he couldn’t speak a word of the language they were conversing in.

 

“Jisoo why don’t I have two Chinese names?”

“Hao we’ve got important business we could be talking about, I-” Hansol took a deep breath as the two continued arguing in Mandarin, strapping on his seatbelt.  _ ‘This is gonna be a long ride,’  _ he thought.

 

As the conversation started to die out, and Hansol’s sanity began coming back, Xuxi spoke up.

“Hey by the way, do you mind us just stopping by to pick up my brother from camp? It’s just down the road; he’s at art camp. So proud of the little guy, he’s gonna be real talented when he grows up.”   
  


“Just get us to the airport in one piece, and I’m fine,” Jisoo grumbled with his head in his hands. 

“Great! You’ll love Junnie!” Yukhei half yelled as he slammed on the gas pedal.

 

They arrived at a small brick house at the end of the street that looked much more like a place that either your grandmother or local drug dealer would live rather than some art camp, and Hansol almost thought Xuxi had taken them somewhere to be discretely killed, possibly under the very order of the gang they were running from. That is, until a small boy ran out the door into the back seat, climbing over Hansol to take the middle spot.

“Renjun! Don’t mind them, they’re just clients.” The boy nodded as he looked down at his phone.

The four sat in a comfortable silence for a few more minutes; Yukhei breaking it with the occasional rambling before Renjun quietly cut him off. Jisoo and Minghao remained fixed on their phones for most of the ride while Hansol decided to look out the window at the passing buildings. Shanghai became alive at night much like Seoul. Neon signs lighting up the streets packed with people ranging from couples on dates, friends going to dinner or clubs and co-workers returning from having drinks. Hansol looked at the rear-view mirror on his side and furrowed his brow at the small reflections of a few cars and motorcycles going much faster than the speed limit. 

 

“Um, Jisoo, are you seeing this?” Hansol asked nervously.

Jisoo turned his head to look at the mirror and cursed under his breath, noticing the Boo crest on the vehicles.

“Yukhei we need you to go faster,” Jisoo said seriously. Minghao turned his body to look through the back window, seeing the pursuers had him turning back to face the back of Yukhei’s seat, pocketing his phone, and putting on his seatbelt. 

Yukhei’s brother seemed oddly unfazed by the slight panic in three men as he calmy buckled his seat belt.

“I don’t think I should; I don’t want to get a speeding ticket.” He said, not bothering to ask why. Jisoo opened his mouth to protest when the sound of machine gun fire started, blowing off the mirror of Jisoo’s side, leaving it to dangle uselessly. 

“Y’know what, faster seems like our best option right now,” Yukhei said strangely cheerfully. Hansol dedusted that being an Uber driver was probably a reasonably boring practice and the idea of a car chase seemed like an exciting prospect.

Yukhei began to speed up, checking his mirror and rolling his eyes at the view of the vehicles behind him; the simple gesture in such a hectic time making Jisoo somewhat confused and concerned for the man's mental wellbeing.

“Xuxi Ge can you pass the aux cord?” Renjun asked quietly from the back. Hansol almost wanted to laugh.

“Injun, I’m kind of in the middle of something, can it wait?” Renjun sighed.

“Okay, guy in the front, pass me the aux cord.” It seemed more like a demand than a question as Jisoo obeyed the boy’s wishes.

Plugging his phone into the cord, Renjun looked up. “Hey, you guys are from Korea, right?” he asked in perfect Hangul, causing Hansol to blink, dumbfounded.

“Uh, yeah, yes we are,” Hansol answered.

“You know Twice, then?” he asked as  _ Heartshaker  _ started playing through the speakers.

“We are in the midst of being chased by one of the biggest threats in South Korea, and you’re playing Twice?” Jisoo looked back, eyes wide in disbelief; Renjun ignored him, still singing along to the chorus. Hansol thought that he could faintly hear Jisoo whisper ‘what the fuck’ in English under his breath. Hansol went to pull the Glock Minghao had given him when they were getting changed in replacement to his CZ-75 when he heard the windshield behind them shatter and a bullet grazing his ear, almost hitting the still singing Renjun and flying by Jisoo’s neck before lodging into the front windshield. 

 

“This is a new car! Fuck!” Yukhei shouted from the driver's seat banging the wheel and jerking it to the side into a backstreet, avoiding a car stopped in front of them. The motorcycle directly behind them didn’t move in time but instead hit the other vehicle, a silver Honda Civic, flying over the top of it. 

 

Hansol realised that they had turned down a one way street only when there was a Ford crown Victoria heading right towards them honking.

“HOLY SHIT!” He yelled out, the two words being echoed by his two comrades.

“What are you yelling about? It’ll be fine.” Yukhei said, tone still displaying his irritation from getting bullet holes in his car. He turned the wheel so that the front and back wheels on the right side were on the sidewalk while the left side remained on the road. The ford swerved around only to run nose first into an oncoming motorcycle.

“I feel like there are more practical ways to do this,” Minghao piped up from the back seat.

“This is more interesting,” Yukhei said, swerving into an alley filled with carts and merchants. The people scrambled to get out of the way while Yukhei just kept driving, breaking carts and banners.

“Xuxi turn it up, it’s Jeongyeon’s part,” Renjun said between lyrics. 

“As you wish Injun,” Yukhei said as he cranked the volume, the bass thrumming through the speakers. 

Hansol ducked as a spray of gunfire shattered the back window and lodged in the front seats and dash, punching holes in the front window. 

“Assholes,” Yukhei cursed and braked suddenly, having the last motorcycle ram into the back of his car.   
“You guys are paying for the repairs,” he stated as he revved the engine and tore through the streets once again, weaving through cars and constantly glancing at his rear view mirror to keep track of the two black SUV’s on his tail. The two cars came up along each side of the smaller car and made a little more distance.

Jisoo realized what the were doing and yelled a warning to Yukhei. “They’re gonna ram you, brake!” 

Yukhei didn’t protest and screeched to halt, watching as the two SUV’s crashed into each other, one’s wheel flying off and the car going into a fiery roll as the other crashed into another car and flipped onto the roof. The five watched in dumb shock as the petrol of the two cars caught fire and the two automobiles exploded, perfectly timed with the last beat of the song.

 

“Get us to the airport right now and we’ll get you any car you want and pay for insurance, gas and maintenance for the rest of your life.” Minghao stated as he slowly released his white knuckled grip on the door. Yukhei twisted around with a large smile on his face.

“Any car? Like, whatever I want? No price limit?” He asked. 

“Sure, tell me now and I can have it waited at the airport on arrival,” Minghao replied.

“Light blue ducati veyron and it's a deal.” Yukhei declared, extending his hand. Minghao grasped it in his own and said something in Mandarin to which Yukhei replied in Mandarin as well.

 

The ride to the airport was surprisingly talkative, filled with idle chatter in regards to interests, and such. Ending with Yukhei getting a relieve from his uber job and instead as a low class driver for the Shanghai branch of Daeshun Hwa that paid almost twelve times his normal salary. They reached the airport within the hour and Yukhei was overjoyed to see his new ducati sitting in front of the building. A man who was leaning against it quickly passed along the keys to the chinese man and disappeared somewhere. Yukhei gave all three of the men a tight hug in goodbye whereas his younger brother settled with a fist pump and a request for a signed twice album, which Minghao promised to have delivered to Yukhei’s apartment. 

The three walked through security easily, not making a single stop as they boarded their plane. Once on board the first class flight Minghao and Jisoo stated that they were retiring to bed whilst Hansol took a seat at the bar. He cradled a whiskey in his shaking hands as his brain seemingly recapped the events that had occured in the past 24 hours. He whimpered when he remembered the sickening sight of the tortured man, the feeling of the knife in his hand, the cold steel of his gun, the kick back when he shit it, the arterial spray that narrowly missed the other two men, the pain in his chest when he was manically laughing, and the numbness that still enveloped his fatigued body.

The man stared at the whiskey. It’s calming amber colour reflecting the bar lights. The slight shift of the ice when he would move too much. He didn’t know how long he stayed there, staring blankly at the glass as the ice melted and he gradually drained the glass of liquid warmth.

“Hansol? How long have you been sitting here?” The aforementioned man glanced up at Jisoo as the other man sat beside him. Hair tussled with sleep and now wearing a plain t-shirt and track pants.

“I killed a man Jisoo. He, he was alive a few hours ago and because of me now he’s not.” The American sighed.

“I know ‘Sol, I went through this. The first is always the hardest and while I hate to say it, it gets much easier over time and experience. I find that I still have nightmares about my first kill despite the fact that i’ve killed many more since then and haven't lost any sleep to those memories. I don’t remember most of their names, their families, their lives but the first one is seemingly engraved in me as much as it sucks. I’m sorry we pushed you Hansol, it was unfair,” Hansol nodded, internally fearing the possibility of killing another man

“Get some sleep man, we have a little bit before we land,” with that Jisoo patted his shoulder, stood, and walked off to bed. Hansol just refilled his glass.


	10. Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMFG WE LOVE YOU ALL BUT EVERYTHING IS SO HECTIC PLEASE DONT KILL US

The ride back from the airport was uneventful, the three men in the back of a dirty taxi. Hansol spent the entire time just staring and the dried blood on his steel toe dress shoes, not knowing how it made him feel; Disgusted? Spiteful? Hateful? While he couldn’t identify which feeling, in particular, he was experiencing he did know that they were pointed towards himself. He had killed a man. Some subconscious part of himself _knew_ that it wasn’t his fault specifically but he couldn’t bring himself to blame Minghao or Jisoo. This was their lifestyle, what they did, it was their _job_. Hansol simply hadn’t been up to the standard. Upon returning to the base he shot Minghao and Jisoo a tight lipped smile before retreating to the bathroom in order to shower. At first, he just let the hot water flow over his skin. But then he started scrubbing. He tried to scrub away the shame, the disgust, the   that stuck to his skin like tar. He scrubbed until his skin was raw and red, the once soothing hot water now burning against the sensitive flesh. Eventually, he just sat in the shower, ignoring the pain of the water making contact with his skin. He didn’t cry, it wasn’t that he didn’t have any more tears to shed, it was that he realized with horror.

 

He was beginning to get frustrated with the fact that there was blood on his expensive shoes than the fact that he had killed someone.

 

He figured it was just shock, his body’s natural reaction to a traumatic experience. Hansol didn’t dwell on it, instead just exiting the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and splashing his face with cold water. The man placed his slender hands at each end of the smooth ceramic, looking at his reflection. He had become more muscled, his jaw and cheekbones more prominent in his face. The longer the man looked at himself the more he noticed how pale he had gotten (he decided to see if Minghao knew the whereabouts of a tanning bed) the bags under his eyes stood out, his hair looked dull and floppy, his eyes red from all the crying he had done recently. He contemplated punching the mirror, breaking what he had come to be. But that was who he was now. The person in the mirror was who he had to be in order for his family to remain safe. He shook away some of the thoughts in his mind, dark thought that would take him to an even darker place, and made for his room.

He got changed into some workout shorts, running shoes, and his sports watch, not bothering with a shirt, and made his way to the gym. Once in the large room he retrieved a pair of boxing wraps and pulled out one of the punching bags from the rail on the ceiling, sliding it over to the middle of the room. He did a quick full body stretch and began beating on the bag, practiced punches and kicks flowing out along with his frustrations. He didn’t notice when his knuckles began to bleed under the wraps, or the pain in his arms. He merely let out all the emotions that he had stored away as of late. Then he got an idea. A way out of the cycle of murder and death. Hansol punched once more only to break the bag, sand spilling out onto the floor of the gym.

“Shit.” Hansol cursed and looked around, not really knowing what to do.

I thought you were goin’ pretty hard on that but I didn’t think you’d manage to break it.” Hansol whipped around at the voice only to be met with the same man that was at the bar with them a little while ago, and that Hansol had seen in the kitchen  forever ago; he remembered his name was Chan.

“Holy shit, you scared me,” Hansol chuckled an rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Been told that I have a tendency to do that before,” Chan gave him a lopsided smile. He was dressed in black pants that were excessively tight with a loose pale green button up tucked into them, the top buttons undone with a pair of circular glasses with a black rim adorning his face.

“You work in logistics right? I never see you around,” Hansol said in an attempt to strike up a conversation. The man merely hummed and handed Hansol something from his back pocket. Hansol furrowed his eyebrows and took the item, he was surprised to find that it was his phone, cracked screen and all.

“W-what? I was told I’d only get this once the boss recognized me as a member, how’d you get this?”

“Well Hansol, you’ve been improving exponentially and well, I recognized you. My name is Lee Chan. The leader of Daeshun Hwa.”

 

Hansol's brain seemingly short circuited at the new information.

 

“Not 'gonna lie, you are much prettier than what I expected out of a godfather.”

 

Hansol wanted to punch himself, of all the things he could have said he did that. Yes the man was pretty, absurdly so at that, but that wasn't the typical way to strike up a conversation with your boss.

Chan flushed at the compliment, his cheeks turning a pretty pink and Hansol used every once of his will power to not smile at the beautiful man.

Chan cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets (Hansol had no idea how considering how tight they were).

“Anyways, I had better be on my way. Mingyu decided to be a little asshole and give me the coordinates to a Chuck E Cheese instead of a base in America. A dozen of my men in the states just ended up scaring kids and pissing off parents so now I need to scold him. I'll call someone by to clean that up,” he said motioning to the mess on the floor that Hansol had, in all honesty, forgot about. Hansol didn't miss the other giving his bare chest a once over and the blush that returned to the others face because of it. Soon Hansol was alone in gym and all he could think about was Chan's calculating eyes.

 

“You never told me that the boss was _hot._ ” Hansol groaned and slumped on the dining table.

“So I take it you met Chan?” Minghao smirked as he plucked an apple from the fruit bowl.

“Yes I met fucking Chan, why didn’t you ever mention that he was attractive,” Hansol pouted, “I knew he was young but I figured he would just be some fat spoiled brat the skinned fucking kittens as a hobby, not a god damn Calvin Klein model.”

“You are a strange person Sol, a kitten skinning kittens? That’s fucked up man.”

“Oh shut up Hao,” Hansol poked the egg on his plate unenthusiastically with his fork.

The Chinese man hummed and took a bite of his apple, looking at the other man with amused eyes. Knowing that this was going to get interesting.

 

-

Chan was fucked. After the bar he had begun monitoring Hansol a little more and of course when he decides that the man is trustworthy enough he just has to walk in on the guy shirtless, muscles just on display. Chan figured that watching for a few minutes wasn’t _that_ creepy so he watched until the man broke the punching bag. With his fucking fist. So Chan made a bullshit reason to leave, went to his office and contemplated every single aspect of his life and how it led him to this point. Chan was good at dealing with himself, appearing cold when necessary and ruthless when required but he never struggled with infatuation. Sure he could say he was attracted to people, no one could deny that most of his members were hot (he tended to pay attention to that when recruiting), but still. Hansol made his heart want to stop despite them only meeting twice (he was not including all the times he had watched Hansol’s training from the sidelines). The man slumped against his mahogany door and slid to the ground groaning. He rubbed his face before noticing that there was something in his pocket jabbing his hips semi-painfully. He stretched his leg and retrieved the item.

 

“Fuck me.”

 

The man looked at himself from the reflection of Hansol’s cell phone.

“Of fucking course I didn’t do the one thing I was supposed to do. That’s just fucking great.”

He hoisted himself up with a huff, wiping off any dust that may have gotten on his pants and trudged out of his office to Hansol’s room. The walk didn’t take too long, Hansol’s room being in the center area of the base. Chan approached the door and knocked. He waited for a reply but got nothing. After a few seconds he just walked in, only to find the other man gone. He hummed and walked to the kitchen, it being empty as well. Chan came to the conclusion that the other was most likely showering after his workout so he walked to the washroom only t hear the sound of water running. Deciding to just wait for the man to be finished Chan leaned on the wall outside the door. He had been waiting near ten minutes when water began dribbling out from under the door. He pushed off the wall and faced the door, his fist rapping against it.

“Hansol?” He received no answer and began to internally panic.

“Hansol! Answer me!” No response came from behind the door and Chan desperately hoped that the man had just fallen and hit his head.

“I’m coming in!” Chan grasped the door knob and wasn’t surprised to find that it was locked. He cursed under his breath and backed up and without thinking twice he kicked right above the door knob, driving his heel into the hallow wood. The door splintered slightly. Chan kept kicking, not taking a break until finally the wood gave in and sent him stumbling into the bathroom. His eyes quickly found their way to Hansol’s crumpled form. His eyes were open but unfocused, slowly looking up to where Chan stood. His breaths were laboured and water from the showerhead pelted at him, running down his bare chest and causing his gym shorts to stick to his skin. But what attracted Chan’s attention the most was the red liquid flowing from the long vertical cuts on his arms.

“H-hey boss.” Hansol’s voice was raspy and staggered.

“Hansol what did you do?!” Chan rushed over to the older, squatting down in order to lift the taller male up into his arms. Lifting the man’s dead weight proving to be very difficult.

“It’s the o-only way to, to, to k-keep them safe,” Chan knew he was talking about his family. Rather that responding he just made his way out of the washroom, avoiding the broken door and still running water. Upon reaching the hallway he began to run as fast as he could towards the infirmary. He barely acknowledged the blood staining his shirt and dripping on the floor.

“Chan?” The man looked at Jisoo who had begun running beside him.   
“What the fuck happened?!” He exclaimed over the sound of their footfalls.

“What do you think happened!” Chan ignored Jisoo’s questions as they approached the infirmary. He turned around and all but slammed into the push door.

“MINHO, MINKYUNG, GET THE FUCK OVER HERE!” Chan yelled as he placed Hansol down on the bed. Noting that his chest was barely rising anymore.

 

“What’s up boss? Oh shit.” Chan watched as Minho walked into the room from his office in his scrubs. The man rushed to Hansol’s sign, immediately processing the wounds. “Fuck, Minkyung! I need three, maybe four pints of- Chan what’s his blood type!” The man was rushing around collecting medical instruments.

“Let me check.” Chan whipped out his own phone and pulled up Hansol’s Daeshun Hwa record.

“Fuck um, he’s O negative.”

“Shit, that’s not good.”

“What? Why?”  

“It’s rare, that’s why. We probably only have two pints of that here, mainly in case you or Wonwoo need transfusions. He’ll need at least three for him to live.”

At that moment Minkyung ran into the room.

“What do you need Choi?” She exclaimed, putting her hair into a ponytail.

“Get me all the O negative that we have.”

“Of course,” with that, she ran out of the room through a different door.

“Is Wonwoo here boss? We need a doner stat, or he’s dead.”

Chan clenched his fists before pushing up one of his blood soaked sleeves.  
“Wonwoo is away for a few days in Tokyo, take it from me.”

“Boss I could never-”

“I _said,_ take it from me. Am I not being clear enough Minho?”

“N-no boss. I’ll have Minkyung take care of you.”

Chan nodded and went and sat in one of the chairs, placing his head in his hands while Minho put pressure on the wounds.   
“Minkyung hurry up! I need an extra pair of  hands!”

Minkyung rushed into the room, two bags of red in her hands. She placed them down and then it was a blur of sanitizing, hooking up ivs and blood covered rags. Chan felt as though everything around him was going in fast forward, yet he stayed rooted down, either looking at the floor or at Hansol. There didn’t seem to be enough clothes. The blood just kept pouring out of the wounds.

 

And Chan was scared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twt
> 
> haohao - hyunjinnlove
> 
> nana - milksungs


	11. God is that you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG LIFE IS HECTIC BUT THATS NO EXCUSE HERES A NICE LONG CHAPTER FOR YOU LOVELIES

Hansol’s head fucking  _ hurt. _ It felt as though a million construction workers were going at his brain with jackhammers. The man attempted to push himself up only to find that his body was in just as much pain as his head. Hansol was suddenly hit with a wave of panic. _ Where was he? Did someone find him? Or was he dead? Is this what death was? His escape was just unbearable pain?  _ He slowly opened his eyes, a blinding white light making him close them again. A groan escaped his lips,  _ even for an atheist, this is a harsh afterlife. _

“So you’re awake.”

“God is that you?” Hansol mumbled out, squeezing his eyes tighter. 

“Huh, that’s a new one, but I like it. I like god. It works, it’s catchy.”

“Why is god so damn loud, oh shit I can’t say damn can I, or shit, fuck, damn it, fucking hell. Shit,” Hansol rambled. The bed he seemed to be laying on dipped next to his legs. God seemed to be sitting down.

“What’s the matter angel, tell god what’s wrong.” 

“Well I killed myself so shouldn’t I be in hell or some shit. Fuck I said shit again.  _ Fuck.” _

“Killed- the actual fuck are you talking about Verny. I mean you  _ tried  _ but-”

“Hao you’re just making him more confused. Hansol open your eyes you fucking idiot.” Jisoo’s very recognizable voice declared.

Hansol did just that, wincing once more at the exposure to light but suffering through it, the male blinked a few ties, clearing the crust from his eyelids before somehow hoisting himself up to a sitting position with Minghao’s help. (He kicked himself for not recognizing ‘god’ as his Chinese friend) He scanned the room, It was a hospital of sorts, Minghao was beside him in a  _ god awful  _ green tracksuit and bucket hat, Jisoo sitting a few feet away in black skinny jeans and and an oversized grey jumper, and across the sterilized room, seated at a shined mahogany desk, papers stacked in neat piles, a leafy plant on one side and a bookshelf on the other, various anime figurines scattered in elaborate poses along the surface of the wood, was Chan.

The room was heavy and awkward. Jisoo and Minghao dramatically whipping their heads between the two men.

“Why is your office in the hospital.”

“It’s my hospital so my office can be in it if it wants to be.”

“Your hospital?”

“It’s my building, therefore, my hospital.”

“Hey, boss maybe we should get Minho to check on him?” Jisoo piped up.   
“In a minute bitch, I’m talking.”

“Fine, you little fuck,” the man grumbled.

“So I take it you aren’t happy with me?” Hansol murmured guiltily.

“You scared me Sol.”

Hansol was startled by this, to say the least, his intimidating (super fucking hot) boss just said he was  _ scared _ because of what Hansol did.

“I, I’m sorry. And I know that probably means nothing to you but I am. I’m making a second home of sorts here and I was content with that for a while, but after Daejoon I came to the realization that if I was ever to fuck up, my family could be in danger. I just couldn’t risk it. I-I’m sorry.” Hansol spoke in a quiet voice. If a coin dropped it may have drowned it out. 

“Hansol, we would have never actually killed your family. Friends are a different story, but never family. I lost my family and I wouldn’t put even the biggest traitor through that. My parents were brutal people when it came to working but I loved them; when they were killed by Boo Muhak’s gang I was devastated. We say that as an empty threat for new recruits, to keep them in line. I’m the one who’s sorry for making you think you had no other choice in order to save your family. This is all my fucking fault,” Chan cradled his head in his hands, tugging slightly at his hair.

“It’s not your fault that I tried to, to,” Hansol paused. 

“It is your fault that I’m alive though. I saw you at the door, and at the time I figured I was just hallucinating but I’m so relieved I wasn’t? At least I’m pretty sure that I wasn’t.” He smiled. 

“You saved me, and I have to thank you,” Hansol stated in a gentle voice, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Chan hesitated.

“I was just in the right place at the right time, I only wish that I figured something was wrong sooner,” he replied, eyes set on Hansol’s face.

 

“Chan? Why didn’t you tell me he was awake? I need to do tests on him before he starts moving around, which he seems to be doing anyway!” A brown-haired man in a doctor's jacket barged into the room through a separate door, giving both Chan and Hansol pointed looks. “And I remember  _ very clearly _ telling you that you can’t bring your desk in here! You shouldn’t even be working after losing so much blood these past few days! Get someone to take this shit back, get some orange juice and then  _ sleep.” _

“Since when do you boss me around? I thought I was the boss! I feel betrayed.” Chan pouted, and for a moment Hansol was glad he didn’t have enough blood in him to blush.

“Fine. Call Bang and his gang of hooligans to move this stuff. I’ll be in my bed sleeping-”

“Chan get some orange-”

“Minho, you know I hate that pulpy orange bullshit,” Chan whined as he stood from his chair and crossed his arms.

“Fine, just get some rest. You’ve barely slept these past few days.”

Chan sighed and only then did Hansol notice how tired he looked. His skin was pasty white, and there were dark bags decorating his eyes. 

“How long have I been asleep?” Hansol piped up, his head starting to hurt worse than ever.

Chan looked at him and walked over to the bed, standing at his side. He placed a hand on his head and gently ran it through his no doubt dirty hair. 

“About a week. Take some meds and rest up. I’ll come by to check on you tomorrow.” Chan smiled and cradled the back of Hansol’s head, leaning forwards and gently pressing his lips against the older man’s forehead. The startled man’s jaw went slack with shock and his eyes widened to a comical size as Chan took his leave from the room.

“Holy shit, Jisoo you know what this means, right?”

“I think this means that we have a couple of kids with a c- r- u- s- h~” The American born man teased in a sing-songy voice.

“I’ve only had like two conversations with the guy, and I was tipsy for one of them. There’s no way its crush, you guys are being ridiculous.” Hansol deflected. 

 

-

 

It was definitely a crush.

 

It took three weeks for Hansol to be back at full health, a month for the bandages to be taken off his wrists to show off the multitude of vertical scars littered over his arms. Over the month, Chan had started spending a lot of time with the man, making sure he took his medicine and helping with his physiotherapy. He even talked Minho out of sending him to the resident Daeshun Hwa therapist Kim Junmyeon; Hansol didn’t believe that mafias had therapists until a very in-depth conversation with the nurse Minkyung about his mental health. Chan’s reasoning being that Hansol was acting for the safety of his family with no real desire to die.

Over time attraction became a light feeling in his chest whenever the man was around. They bonded over music artists and bickered over trivial things such as what the best Starbucks drink was (Hansol stood by the pumpkin spice latte while Chan made a case for the strawberry coconut pink drink). Hansol, for lack of better explanation, was whipped. 

 

But life has to go on.

 

By the beginning of July, another mission was given to the man by Chan himself. Three of Mingyu’s ‘little birds’- children who had been feeding the man whispers from around the city that technology could not pick up- had been kidnapped by Boo Muhak’s gang, now calling themselves Sanyang-gae, or The Hounds, and were being kept at an old house. The mission was simple. Infiltrate the house they were being kept in, take the guards hostage if possible or kill them, Chan could find use in both solutions, from there Hansol simply had to free the three kids and call in a backup team that would escort them to some temporary housing seeing as they had no families. Hansol had asked why he had to go alone, he was new and not experienced in the slightest, to which Chan told him that it would be less likely to identify him seeing as he didn’t get out too much. Therefore it was safer for him to go than anyone else. Chan did introduce him to his backup team, the ones that would force their way in if the mission became compromised.

It was a total of nine guys, most being a few years younger than Hansol for the most part, the leader being his age. They were the ones that Chan referred to as “Bang and his group of hooligans” and they were all nice enough until he saw them training which scared the shit out of the older man.

 

The worst part was that Chan had a  _ plan. _ A plan that was so idiotic that Hansol was tempted to smash his head through a wall. There’s no way that it would work. There was no chance in hell.

Yet here he was, decked out in ‘Monster Pizza’ attire with a horribly large pile of pizza balanced in his arms, waiting for the enemy gang to answer the door. About a minute later Hansol was debating giving up when to his dismay, he heard the door open. He, unfortunately, couldn’t see who answered.

“Hi, I have a delivery?” Hansol asked, milking the innocence in his tone. 

“We didn’t order anything, sorry. You must have the wrong house.”

“So this isn’t 20 Hoenamu-ro 44da-gil?”

“It is, but we didn’t order this.”

“Well do you want it? It’s paid for already and I need to get back to my other deliveries.”

The man paused; Hansol worried that he’d decline and they’d have to force their way in. Thankfully he then spoke up.

“What kinds do you have?” Hansol resisted the urge to smile.

“I have two ultimate cheese, one meat demon, four spice chicken and three bacon mushroom, would you like me to help you bring it inside?”

The man paused once more, obviously not loving the idea of letting someone in the house but sensing that it would be difficult to bring in ten pizzas alone he agreed and took half of the pile out of Hansol’s hands. The man made his way inside, discreetly taking in his surroundings. The place was just as gloomy on the inside as it was on the outside, the scarce amount of furniture covered in dust, more importantly, the fact that the room was empty. Meaning that the others were scattered throughout the building.

“Just follow me to the kitchen if you could?” The man - who Hansol could now see was probably in his mid-thirties - asked.

“‘Course, do you plan on eating all these yourself?” Hansol chuckled.

The other man seemed to relax a little, seeing Hansol as nothing but a young pizza delivery guy. 

“Nah, it’s a lot even for me, I have a few buddies here with me.” 

“Oh?” Hansol asked as he made his way to the counter in the kitchen.

“Yeah, they’re probably downstairs though.” 

“Alright, well enjoy your pizza!” Hansol said cheerfully as he placed the boxes down.

“Yeah, thanks, man. You can just let yourself out.” The man said as he turned his back to Hansol in order to open one of the boxes. Hansol, as quickly as he could, pulled the pistol from his underarm holster hidden safely within his jacket. 

 

The muffler made it so the bullet barely made a sound as it left the chamber and barreled its way into the man’s skull. Hansol exhaled shakily and reloaded. He holstered the gun once more and picked up the pile of pizzas. He took a few deep breaths and wandered into the unkept living room. 

“Hello?” He called out, trying to keep the nerves out of his voice.

The house stayed quiet and Hansol grew increasingly worried until footsteps made their way up the old wooden steps. Hansol turned towards the steps to find the barrel of a gun shoved in his face. 

“Who the fuck are you?” 

Hansol was trying really hard not to piss himself.

“Whoa, I’m just a pizza guy. I-I just got an order from this address and t-the door was open so I-I just came in and could  _ please  _ lower the gun mister scary man sir.” Hansol tried to sound as terrified as possible - It wasn’t particularly hard all things considered.

“You here alone?” the man’s eyes narrowed, still a death grip on his gun. 

“Yes, I’m sorry for intruding I just,”

“You what? Just entered a random person's house?”

“N-no! Well, yes but the order is paid for and I was just trying to do my job, I’m so sorry.” Hansol rambled.

“Paid for? We didn’t order anything dipshit.”

“This is the address on the order so if you want them I can just leave them here and go.” Hansol knew this plan would fail; the guy couldn’t be as stupid as the last one.

“... Fine, follow me.”

Nevermind.

The man walked towards the kitchen, shoving the gun in the back pocket of his pants.

Hansol, with much difficulty, balanced the pile of boxes on one arm; dipping into his holster in order to grab his gun with the other. He placed the hand with the weapon under the pizza’s and continued to follow the man. They reached the kitchen and man cursed upon seeing his dead colleague. He whipped towards the younger man, malice in his eyes.

 

The bullet from Hansol’s gun was already in the man’s chest by the time he reached for his gun. He sputtered for a second, clutching at his chest while blood flowed through his fingers.

“You bitch, y-you’ll p-pay for this. Boo will h-have your h-head-” The man said before falling into a lifeless slump. Hansol placed down the pizza’s and adjusted his grip on the gun.  _ This is much easier than Daejoon. _

He left the kitchen and headed towards the basement stairs. He descended slowly, being as quiet as possible. He was almost at the bottom when a voice rang out from the other room. 

“Oi,  Jung, what was the racket upstairs?”

Hansol whipped around the corner of the stairs and pointed his gun at the man, sat at a table covered in cards, chips, and soju. The man scrambled to grab his gun which was resting on the table when Hansol fired a warning shot, besides his reaching hand. The man yelped and brought his hands to his chest.

“You can’t be here! This is Boo Muhak’s operation.” The man said it smugly as if just saying the man’s name would impose enough power and fear that Hansol would cower and run away. Maybe that was how it was for a lot of people, but Hansol was taught differently.

“And this is a Daeshun Hwa operation. Now you’re going to tell me where the kids are before I start to shoot things off,” he lowered the gun so it pointed at the man’s groin, “very important things.”

The man’s eyes widened and he gulped, obviously intimidated by Daeshun Hwa’s name alone.

“I can’t do that! Boo will kill me!” 

“And I’ll kill you if you don’t, just like I did to your buddies upstairs. Or, you show me where the kids are and I get you a first class ticket to, let’s say,  Iceland. Heard it’s beautiful there this time of year.”    
The man paused, running a hand worriedly through his black greasy hair.    
“No strings? I show you where they are and I get out?”

“Sure, seems like a pretty good way to start the summer, wouldn’t you say?”

The man nodded slightly, “Yeah okay, I’ll show you where they are.”

“Make sure to keep your hands behind your head, I don’t like surprises and I doubt you want me to get trigger happy.” The man exhaled shakily and did as he was told, slowly standing from his chair. He walked towards Hansol and the man stepped to the side, allowing him access to the stairs. They ascended quietly, entering the living room. The man led Hansol to a room opposite to the kitchen. 

“In here.” He motioned towards a wooden door.

The younger continued to point the gun at the man, cracking the door open to see three figures huddled in a corner.   
“Thank you,”

“Yeonjin.”

“Thank you Yeonjin.” Hansol pulled the trigger, shooting a poor Yeonjin through the calf.

 

The man tumbled to the ground, screaming that Hansol had lied.

Hansol just holstered his gun and opened the door, watching as the three kids scramble away from the door in fear. Hansol didn’t approach them, not wanting to scare them more. Instead, he pulled out his phone and called the number of his back up team. While the dialing tone rang out he observed the dingy room. There was a bucket in one corner and a few dirty plates lying near the door, the doorknob nowhere to be seen.

The line clicked and Bang’s voice came through (His real name was Chris but they had code names for a reason).    
“What’s up Vernon?” He questioned.

“Mission was a success. The kids are here, scared but seemingly unharmed. You guys good to collect ‘em?”

“Yeah man, everyone else eliminated?”

“All but one, leg wound. Shouldn’t be much trouble.”

“Alright, see you soon Vernon.”

The line clicked as Hansol ended the call.

 

He faced the kids who were staring at him in fear, probably thinking the worst.

He sighed and squatted down so that he was at their level.

“Hey guys, I’m a friend of your Mingyu hyung. We’re here to help, okay? I have some more friends coming that will take you back to see him, get you all washed up, does that sound nice?” He spoke softly, making sure that he didn’t frighten them.

The biggest of the three spoke first, a lanky boy with sharp features.

“Are they gone?” Hansol briefly looked in the direction of the man who was still screaming. 

“For the most part. Here, how about we head into the living room and eat some pizza? The kids all smiled and stood up shakily, following Hansol out of the room. The smallest- a little girl with chubby cheeks, kicked the man writhing on the floor in his injured shin with a huff. They walked into the main room to be greeted with Bang and his posse entering through the door. 

“Alright guys, they’re going to take you back to base.” Hansol smiled. 

He turned to a taller boy with choppy black hair.

“Could you get them the pizza's from the kitchen?” He smiled and nodded, heading to the room. He looked down upon feeling an insistent tap on his leg. It was the second, smaller, boy. 

 

“Thank you,” he whispered before giving Hansol's waist a tight hug, soon to be followed by his two friends. Hansol cradled their heads and bit back the nostalgia of his old life.

“Okay, guys. Go on, you all smell.” He joked, nudging them towards a boy with peach colored hair. They laughed before running off. 

“You want a ride to the base?” Bang asked, arching a brow in Hansol's direction, the two of them ignoring the man being bound and carried out the door just to their right.

“I’m good, 'gonna go get a coffee, or a whiskey. One or the other. Hell maybe both” He chuckled. Bang nodded and gave his shoulder a reassuring pat.

“It gets better. As sick as it sounds.” The leader stated, to which Hansol nodded slightly. And with that the group took their leave, heading to the vans parked down the street. 

 

Hansol took a few minutes to leave the house. He just stood in the middle of the living room for a while, Just staring at the pool of blood slowly making its way out of the kitchen. The initial adrenaline had worn off and Hansol was realizing that he just  _ killed  _ two people. And shot another just so he could be captured and tortured. Hansol had begun to pace, the worst part wasn't that he had completely destroyed any chance of these men leading lives but the fact that it wasn’t making him feel disgusted, it didn’t feel  _ wrong _ . 


End file.
